


Second Chances

by thedoobly_doo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anti-Charmings, Anti-Hook, F/M, season 6 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedoobly_doo/pseuds/thedoobly_doo
Summary: Emma and Co. defeat Hades on their own, and as reward, Zeus gives Emma and Regina their True Loves back. However, it is not Hook who comes back, but Neal. Swanfire-centric Season 6 AU.





	1. Chapter 1

_“The Light”_

Neal walked down the deserted street that could’ve been the backdrop of any American city, whistling to himself. It was a bit strange, he thought, that there was no one else here with him. Given all the crossovers from the Underworld he had heard mention of on Mount Olympus, he would’ve expected to see more people. It would be nice to have someone to lament the lack of good pizza with, but perhaps this area of ‘the light’ as Zeus liked to call it, was different for everyone.

Hell, the only thing that stayed the same for him day-to-day was Mount Olympus in the background, rising imperiously over his slice of heaven. He never knew what he was going to wake up to. The day he had visited Emma, it had been the carnival they had had their first ‘date’ at, and he hadn’t been there since.

Emma.

God, he missed her so much. She had looked so pale and tired when they had seen each other. But it was more than that, she was missing something. The fiery personality he had fallen so madly in love with had...dimmed somehow, and he wished desperately that he could be there to bring it back. Hook was no good for her, and he hoped that deep down she knew that too. It wasn’t like he could be there to convince her otherwise.

It was more than that, though- every instinct he had wanted to jump back in to protect them, his family. Neal had heard rumors, of course, of everything going on in the Underworld, and Olympus had shaken from base to peak the day Zeus heard Hades had escaped from the Underworld. She and Henry were in trouble, and he kicked a pebble in the street in frustration. He wanted to help them!

Well, there was one option.

Using thoughts of Emma and Henry to steel his courage, he drove his feet toward a different path. Neal pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, as if the gods wouldn’t see him if they couldn’t see the top of his head. It was ridiculous at best and dangerous at worst, but he had to see her again.

He slinked down the streets until he arrived at the ‘outskirts’ of the city where a deep fog concealed the path to the Rainbow Pool of Iris from view. Despite all the goddess’s warnings, he knew the path by heart by now, and it wasn’t long before the fog lifted and revealed a small path of colored stones in every hue imaginable leading to a large pool of water in the center. A dove perched above the pool, watching him imperiously, and he gave up all hope of not being caught. “Hello, Iris.”

A near-blinding light filled his surroundings. When he was able to see again, a small woman with curly dark hair stood in front of him, her hands on her hips and a deep frown on her face. Her golden wings were fully spread, blocking the pool from his view. “You shouldn’t be here again, Neal.” She said sternly. “Zeus has noticed, and he is getting angry.”

“I just...I need to see her again. She’s in trouble - I can’t not know how she is!” Neal insisted, and she shook her head.

“This is my pool, Neal. It would be wise of you to turn around and forget you ever came here.” Iris said, her warning more apparent in her words than in her voice. “While I admire your stubbornness and your devotion to the ones you love, you will never truly move on if you do not let go.”

Her stern expression didn’t fade, but her wings began to relax, and he took that as a good sign. “Move onto where? I’ve already ‘moved on’.” He risked saying, and Iris scoffed.

“And you truly think this place is happier for you when you look down and wish for what you cannot have, instead of accepting that you will see them again and waiting patiently for that day to come?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, especially when it comes to her. I can’t not support her now, even if the only thing I can do is feel some pain on her behalf.” Neal pleaded, and she shook her head. “Is that so bad?”

“I have given you more than enough warnings.” She interrupted, resignation in her voice. “Go and do not come back here. I will not be responsible for the consequences should you return.” She turned her back on him once she was finished speaking, disturbing the water with one finger. He tried to peer over her shoulder, and she boomed, “Go, and don’t come back!”

He ran out of the garden and down the path- he had riled her for too long, and while Neal thought she may have had some sympathy for his situation, he could understand hers as well. Zeus was not a forgiving god, and he had tempted fate long enough. With a glare at Olympus, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the city streets, his mind plagued by thoughts of Emma and Henry.

* * *

 

_Storybrooke_

“This is hopeless.” Regina said, throwing her hands up in the air. Fire erupted at the tips of her fingers and Emma couldn’t find it in herself to stop her. “Zelena’s put up a protection spell! It’s going to be impossible to get in now. Hades is clever, he has her completely convinced that we’re wrong.”

“We can’t just leave my daughter in there, with him, with her!” Robin protested angrily.

“And how do you suggest we get her back, Robin? I don’t think we can win a battle against a god! Especially not the god of death!”

“So we just leave her in there!? That’s my daughter!” Robin shouted, pacing on the front lawn of the mayor’s office angrily. A green ripple still passed over the building once every few seconds, giving her no hope of getting inside. Emma felt herself growing angrier with every second that passed and they got no closer to an answer, and in desperation, threw wave after wave of light magic at the building.

The shield expanded and barreled into her, throwing her back several feet onto the road. “Emma!” David called, and a second later, pulled her to her feet. “This isn’t helping anything. You need to go home.”

Regina and Robin were standing off to the side, staring at her but sparing a few side-eyed glares for each other. “I can’t go home, not while Storybrooke’s in danger. I’m the Savior, it’s my job to protect it.” Emma protested, but even she could tell she wasn’t convincing anyone, what with the listlessness in her voice.

“You’re not of any use to us if you’re too emotional to think straight, Emma. Go to Granny’s, go to the library, go home, go anywhere, but you’re of no use to us here.” Regina ordered.

“Fine.” Emma said, fully aware she sounded like a petulant child rather than an almost-thirty year old woman. “Call me if anything new comes up.” She shrugged off David’s supportive hand on her shoulder and marched to the library - if nothing else, she might at least be able to find some information.

She just wished she didn’t have to be there alone. Emma knew all the feelings that she was holding in, that strange knot at the bottom of her stomach that had started when Killian died and seemed to grow larger by the minute, was going to unravel at some point. She just wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be alone when that happened or not.

* * *

 

_“The Light”_

God, he was so _bored._ It didn’t matter that every day he woke up in a new place because there was never anyone there and no matter where in the world he was, Olympus still loomed over him like a disapproving parent. How did you explain to a group of disconnected gods what a good bagel tasted like?

Neal scuffed the gravel with his feet- apparently today he was in the middle of absolutely nowhere, and the only thing to do was to keep walking. Eaves of wheat ruffled around him, though he couldn’t feel the wind. _This is Heaven_ , he thought sarcastically, _no discomfort for us here._

Damn it, he was supposed to be happy here! It went against everything he had ever known as a young child and as an adult to not be happy here in the afterlife, but he missed his life. He missed Emma and Henry and his father and his tiny apartment in New York and the little hovel he had grown up in as a child.

If only this stupid world would take him back to one of those places instead of the middle of fucking nowhere. In a fit of childish anger, he picked a stone up off the ground and threw it as far as he could, and when that felt good, he threw a few more. What would Zeus do, send him to hell?

He should have never sent that message to Emma. He could’ve been happy here, thinking that he had died to save her and save his father, but he was a stupid masochist and had to torture himself with what he could never have. He had to witness _Hook_ draining her of all her fire and spirit and know he could do nothing to stop it now. It was infuriating, and his arm was beginning to ache from how hard he was throwing these things.

“Neal.”

Neal spun on his feet, the rock he was about to throw dropping out of his fingers. A man who stood about a head shorter than him and dressed like a reject from Caesar’s Palace stood a foot away, his eyebrow raised. “Zeus.” Neal greeted in a monotone, bowing theatrically. The god wouldn’t like it, he knew, but who cared?

The wind blew harder around them, but Zeus said evenly, “I’ve come to request your help, Neal.”

“And what could I do for a god?” Neal asked, a bitter laugh in his voice.

“It would be wise not to anger me. Will you help or no?” Zeus said, and when Neal nodded, swept an arm out to the path behind him. “After you.”

They walked forward together, and in an instant, the surroundings disappeared and were replaced by a large white hall whose ceiling stretched up so high Neal couldn’t even see the top. _This must be Olympus_ , he thought amazingly. It was so, so... _bright_ , so bright that it almost hurt his eyes. Gods and goddesses milled around, watching him imperiously and making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. The accuracy of the metaphor stunned him, and he almost laughed aloud as he realized that was exactly what he was. Only the weight of the stares kept him silent.

Zeus walked ahead of him, not even sparing a glance at his traveling companion, and Neal shook his head before running to catch up with him. “What exactly are you asking me to do?”

“My brother is threatening the natural order of things down on Earth, and he needs to be stopped. Your Emma is trying to, but she lacks some crucial information. Given that you’re so close, you were chosen to communicate this message to her.” Zeus explained, pausing before a pedestal with an all-too-familiar storybook on it, its pages flipped to the very last few.

“Henry’s storybook.” Neal mused, running his hand over the page and trying to ignore the sharp feeling of grief that passed through him. Henry remembered his father fondly now, thank...well, Zeus, but that didn’t completely erase the knowledge that he had died with his son thinking he was some deadbeat loser who didn’t want him.

“Hades tore the pictures out of his copy of the storybook in order to keep it from Emma’s hands. He doesn’t remember that there is a copy on Olympus as well.” Zeus explained.

“What do you need me to do?” Neal asked. It was going to kill him (well, figuratively), he knew it would, but he could no more refuse to help her than he could refuse to love her. Regardless of all the time they had spent apart and all the history they had together, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“Appear to Emma in a dream. Iris and Morpheus will assist you as they did previously. Tell her that Hades has the Olympian Crystal.” Zeus pointed to an illustration on the page that showed a bright blue rod. “That is the only thing that can stop him. Will you help?”

Keeping his love for her and Henry at the forefront of his mind, Neal nodded.

* * *

_Storybrooke_

Rumplestiltskin sank onto his desk chair in the back of his shop, trying not to glance at Pandora’s box sitting on his work table, trying not to remember how he had failed Belle so terribly. Their love had died, and her blasted father wouldn’t wake her. She deserved so much better than the two of them.

He poured a healthy measure of scotch into the tumbler by his elbow. There would be time for thinking and plotting, but for right now, he wanted to forget that his wife and child were stuck in a never-ending hell and he was well and truly powerless to get them out of it. Maurice, the spineless coward, wouldn’t wake her, and Hades refused to give him part of the Olympian crystal. It was hopeless.

He threw the tumbler at the wall, taking at least a small measure of satisfaction from the breaking glass. What did it matter? He would never have Belle back, not if he had let their True Love die.

Rumple wanted to weep and scream and rail at the world and its unfairness, but deep down he knew it was all his fault. He had pushed her away one too many times, and now he was paying the price for it. Magic always came with a price.

Maybe if he hadn’t lied to her over and over and _over_ again during their marriage, making her trust in him a tool he could play around with, maybe then she would have trusted him to protect their child. He couldn’t pretend that everything she had done recently hadn’t dented his love for her too, but the problems in their marriage were largely his fault. He could accept that.

“Grandpa?” Henry called from the front of the shop, and Rumple closed his eyes. To hear that word and know that he had lost the only other person who loved him was a wound that would never heal.

“In the back.” Rumple called. Henry stepped past the curtain, looking around with wide eyes that were so much like Bae’s. “What can I do for you?”

“Where’s Belle?” He asked, and Rumple bit back the grief that threatened to overwhelm him again.

“In the box.” He answered, nodding towards Pandora’s box.

“You’re just going to leave her in there?” Henry asked incredulously.

“She’s asleep, my boy. She’ll never know the difference.” Rumple said softly. He watched the amber liquid swirl around in his glass, knowing he had drunk too little to numb his feelings but hoping for the relief nonetheless. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to make sure you and Belle got back alright.” Henry answered slowly, and Rumple smiled softly. The boy cared too much about everyone, not like his hypocrite family, and he idly wondered where Henry had gotten that trait from. “What do you mean she’s asleep?”

“Sleeping curse. Zelena gave it to her.” Rumple admitted, feeling a stab of anger that Belle had gone to the woman who imprisoned him and killed his son rather than trust her own husband to protect their child.

“Well, then it’s an easy fix!” Henry said. “All you have to do is kiss her, and she’ll wake up, safe in Storybrooke.” He picked up the box and pressed into Rumple’s hands. “You have to let her out first.” He explained when Rumple made no attempt to move.

“I’ve tried already.” Rumple said softly, rubbing the edges of the box with his thumb. “It didn’t work. We’re not True Love anymore.”

Henry sank into a chair. “Of course you are. You’re Beauty and the Beast.”

“Life isn’t always a fairy tale, Henry. You should know that better than most.” Rumple admonished gently, and Henry bit his lip in a way that reminded him painfully of Belle.

“We’ll figure something else out, but she at least doesn’t deserve to be trapped in there any longer.” Henry said. “We can take it from there.”

“We?” Rumple questioned. He hadn’t exactly made himself popular with the hero crowd lately, and it was a shock that anyone cared about him or Belle beyond what help the two of them could offer in a crisis.

“She’s my grandma. You didn’t think I was going to let you do this alone, did you?” Henry asked, and Rumple felt the first true smile cross his face. “You’re the Dark One, and I’m the Author. I’m sure between the two of us we could figure something out.”

“Your mothers won’t like you helping me.” Rumple reminded him, and Henry shrugged.

“My mom’s still shaken up about Hook, and between Robin, Zelena, and the new baby, my other mom’s too busy to notice me. And Grandma Snow and Grandpa Charming are busy with Neal.” Henry said, unable to keep the dejection out of his voice. Rumple felt a small surge of anger at how they all were mistreating his grandson. All this power had been hoisted onto him, and not one of them were helping him deal with it. “But I’ll only help you if you let Belle out of that box while we figure out something.”

The boy was too much like him. Rumple extended his hand for Henry to shake. “You have a deal.”

* * *

_The Realm of Dreams_

Emma awoke with a gasp, feeling springy grass under her cheek. Her eyes darted around, seeing nothing but an empty field from what she could see. She had definitely been in the library she thought, looking at Henry’s storybook and trying to ignore her own pain in hopes of finding a solution to their Hades problem.

She must have fallen asleep, but that didn’t explain where she was.

“Ok, the landing wasn’t supposed to be quite that hard.” A voice said, and Emma jerked her head up to see Neal crouching into front of her, a hand out to help her up. She took it warily (it was warm, so warm, he had always had warm hands). “It’s good to see you.”

“What’s going on? How are you here? Where are we?” Emma blurted in a string, and he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“This is the Realm of Dreams. Zeus sent me here to deliver a message to you.” Neal explained, cradling her face in his hand. “I’ve missed you so much, Emma.”

“I missed you too.” Emma said softly, and she almost thought he would bend down and kiss her. A strong wind whistled through the clearing, blowing her hair around and ruffling his jacket. “Henry misses you too. I wish you were still with us.”

“I wish I could be.” Neal said. The wind whipped through the clearing again, and he shouted at the sky, “Yea, I get it already!”

“Who are you talking to?” Emma asked, looking up to see only clouds in the sky.

“We don’t have much time.” Neal said quickly. “I know Hades ripped parts of the storybook out. The parts he ripped out have the information that can kill him. You have to get in that town hall, Emma. That’s the only way you can save Storybrooke.”

“But what did he rip out?” She questioned.

“Pages showing the Olympian Crystal.” Neal answered, and she almost rolled her eyes. Were all the gods this vague?

“What do I do? Did Zeus tell you that?” Emma questioned angrily, and he shook his head.

“He said you’ll know what to do when you see it.” A wind rolled through the clearing again, almost pulling her off her feet, and the look on Neal’s face told her there wasn’t much time left. Before she could say anything else, he bent down and seized her lips. She threw her arms around his shoulders, ignoring the guilt pulling at her. Hook had only just died, and Neal was already dead, and god this was confusing but he was such a good kisser. They kissed for a few more moments before Neal pulled back. “I have to go, Emma. I love you, and I always will.”

The strongest wind of all poured into the clearing, knocking her to the ground. She looked up just in time to see Neal fading away as if he had never been there in the first place.

* * *

_Storybrooke_

Emma rushed out of the library and down the sidewalk- Regina had to know and she had to know _now_. She wished she could just flick her hand and poof there, but she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it with her light magic yet. _The dark magic had worked so much better with this stuff,_ she thought to herself. _Not that I would take it back._

She walked as fast as she could, trying to push down the feelings of guilt and ignore her still-tingling lips. Hook was dead, and she had tried to bring him back and failed, but for now, she had a town to save and a god to defeat. Emma still wasn’t sure how, but it had something to do with this crystal, and they were going to figure it out.

The first person she saw was David. He was watching the town hall building with a worried eye, pacing back and forth. “Emma?” He questioned when he saw her, marching over to her with purpose in his step. “What are you doing here?” Regina and Robin, who had been sitting off to the side, also came up, questions in their eyes.

“There’s a way to defeat Hades, but we have to get in there.” Emma said. “He has some crystal, an Olympian Crystal, and that’s the only way to take him down.”

“Well, it’s a start.” Robin said, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully. “How do we get in?”

“I have an idea about that.” Regina said. Her voice lowered as she said, “There’s an underground tunnel that leads straight to my office. We can get in that way, but we have to distract them first.”

“I can do that.” Emma said. “Just...give me some sort of signal and I can start attacking her wards again. That should be able to distract them.”

“And what am I supposed to do with the crystal?” Regina and Robin asked simultaneously before looking at each other, shocked.

“I don’t know.” Emma admitted softly. “I wasn’t told that part.”

“Told? You know what? Never mind. Maybe Hades has an instruction manual!” Regina said sarcastically, and Emma glared at her. Before they could get too angry at each other though, David stepped between them.

“Arguing isn’t going to help anyone right now, and there’s a baby in there that needs our help. We can argue about this later.” David said, and Regina nodded stiffly. “Alright?” He questioned pointedly, his eyes fixed on Emma. She sighed and nodded.

“I’ll be ready for your signal, Regina.” Emma said.

With that, Regina was off, Robin right behind her, and Emma settled herself in for a long wait. She could hear David pacing behind her, and said, “Sit down, Dad.”

He sat down with a groan, throwing his arm around her shoulder. She could feel his eyes on her face, and shook her head. “I’m alright. I’ll deal with it, but we need to deal with this first.”

“There’s always something to deal with first here, and I doubt that’s going to change. It’s not healthy for you to be shoving down all your emotions this way, Emma.” David replied. A breeze rippled through the lawn, and she shivered slightly. She felt lost and vulnerable, and she didn’t like it. Tears threatened to overwhelm her, and she pushed them away. Being vulnerable only meant pain in the end - she had learned that with Neal and with Killian.

A warm jacket settled around her shoulders, and she pulled it closer. “I’ll deal with it when this is all over.”

“Promise me.” David stated, and Emma looked over to him, eyebrow raised. “Promise me you’ll ‘deal with this’ when Hades is gone.”

The lie burned her lips on the way out. “I promise.”

A light flickered on and off in the town hall hallway before David could question her too closely or force her to promise to talk to Archie, and she stood up a little too quickly. “Well, let’s get this bastard back to the Underworld where he belongs.”

She gathered all the emotions she felt, all the love for Neal and for Killian, her grief at their deaths, her guilt, and all the other feelings she tried to ignore and shot them out in a vortex of white light. The moment it hit the building, a tendril of green energy fought back, and she pushed harder. It was only meant as a distraction, but if she could get through, all the better.

She could see a figure moving in the windows, and concentrated harder. If someone, hopefully Hades, was watching, she would put on a show then.

Emma felt sweat beading on the back of her neck and her arms ached all the way down to her shoulders. The doors pushed open and the barrier spell dissipated, and she let her arms fall, shaking the tingling out of her hands. Hades was smirking at her, and as she raised her arms again, he asked, “Now, did you really think that could defeat me? I am a god.”

“Even gods can be killed.” Emma spat, and he laughed.

“Not by you.” Hades said, and he flung his arm out. She flew through the air and landed two feet away, rolling through the grass and almost onto the street. She jumped to her feet, throwing another wave of magic at him, but he deflected it with a wave of his hand.

“You can’t keep this up, Hades. This is our world, not yours.”

“Not for long. I will rebuild my kingdom in this world, and you will be an example to those who choose to oppose me.” Hades stepped into thin air and vanished, and Emma looked around her frantically, eyes watching for where he popped up. She could see David off to the side, sword raised, his eyes peeled for the malevolent god as well.

In an instant, Hades appeared in front of her, almost nose to nose with her. Before she could even shout, he had his hand around her throat, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. “I do so hate to do things the human way, but I find it’s rather effective in making a statement.” His other hand flicked to the side, and she could hear David’s sword clatter to the pavement. She clawed at his gloved hand, kicked at his stomach, but he only chuckled. “Did you really think you could defeat me? I am a god, and you are a pathetic little girl who bit off more than she could chew.”

“I’m the Savior.” Emma choked out, black spots appearing at the edges of her vision. His grip seemed to be getting tighter and tighter, and she felt tears at the corners of her eyes. If she was going to die, at least she would be with Killian again.

“ _Was_ the Savior, you mean. I mean, after all, you couldn’t even save your precious Killian from dying.” Hades taunted, laughing. “Without you standing in my way, this world will be mine, and there’s nothing you can do to-” He choked, and Emma dropped to the ground, gasping for air. Her throat burned and she coughed raggedly.

“That’s enough of that.” Regina said, and Emma watched as Regina shoved something further into Hades’ back. He screamed as a white light boiled out of his stomach and began to crawl up his torso and down his legs. Hades burst into a pile of dust, a piece of crystal nestled in the middle of it.

Regina collapsed to the ground then, and Emma coughed, “Good timing.” When she refused to answer her, Emma slowly got to her feet and looked around. David was getting up, rubbing the back of his head, but Robin was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Robin?”

“She...she killed him. Zelena...choked him to death.” Regina sobbed, and Emma sank down beside her, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Regina.” Emma said, but the other woman didn’t seem to hear her. Zelena was standing on the step of the town hall, Robin’s baby in her arms, looking tired but satisfied. Emma made eye contact with David and nodded towards the witch, but before he could get there, she threw up her hand and was gone in a plume of green smoke.

That was going to be a problem, but right now, neither of them were in any state to deal with it. Emma knelt down to help Regina up, and as soon as she looked up again, there was a man standing in the lawn, dressed like a reject from Caesar’s Palace. “Who are you?”

“I am Zeus.” He answered.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but considering your brother almost killed me, you’ll understand if I’m not overjoyed.” Emma said, and he chuckled. “What was funny about that?”

“I’m here to thank you, Emma and Regina. Hades has been wreaking all kinds of havoc, and I thank you for stopping him.” He explained, and continued, “In return for your service, I can give you both a reward I’ve never been able to give anyone - the gift of your True Loves back.”

Regina’s head jerked up, tears still streaking down her face, and she bit out, “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

“See for yourselves.” Zeus said, gesturing to the doors of the Town Hall. In the next instant, he was gone and they both watched the doors nervously.

Robin stepped through first, rubbing the back of his head and looking around, wonder in his eyes. In an uncharacteristic display of emotion, Regina ran to him, nearly tackling him into the dirt in her haste to kiss him. They laughed together and she made eye contact with Emma. She smiled tightly before pulling Robin off to the side, saying something in a voice too low for her to hear.

Emma watched the door anxiously, wondering where Killian was. It had to be confusing - Robin looked confused enough and he had only been dead for ten minutes. Killian probably wanted to make sure he looked as ruggedly handsome as he had before he died, that was all. That had to be why seconds passed with the door remaining closed.

Emma was beginning to give up hope - maybe she never had a True Love. Maybe Zeus was being cruel, since Regina was the one who actually killed Hades. Suddenly, the door started moving, and she expected to see the gleam of a hook any second. She held her breath as the door swung open, only for Neal to step out on the stairs, blinking in the light.

It was supposed to be her True Love, her Killian. Neal made eye contact with her and grinned, looking tired but altogether healthy, and the bubble she had been shoving all her feelings into burst in a massive rush of tears. Before she could register the confusion and worry on Neal’s face, or the concern on Regina’s, she ran off, barely registering where she was going and barely able to see through the tears streaming down her face.


	2. Chapter 2

Neal watched in mute disappointment as Emma ran off down the street, her sobs echoing in the early evening air. Of course, he understood - it was a bit of a shock. It wasn’t every day that your dead true love came back to life, and he hadn’t even been the one she was expecting. However, given how they had been in Morpheus’s dream world, he expected a little more than that.

He ached to run after her, comfort her, but Neal could recognize she needed some space. If he knew anything about Emma, he knew she wouldn’t respond if he tried to push her. All he could do was give her her space for now. He had waited this long to reunite with her, it wouldn’t kill him to wait out the night at least. Until then, he had to find his son.

Regina and Robin were watching with concern, and Neal sank down onto the step. Being resurrected was exhausting, and despite how much he still wanted to go after Emma, there was little chance of even finding her tonight, much less getting her to talk to him. The night was fast descending, and he needed to find his son and a place to stay tonight.

“Granny probably has a room open tonight.” Regina supplied, and Neal looked up, surprised at her tone. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “She’ll come around.”

“Thanks. Where’s Henry?” Neal asked after a moment. Emma may be out of reach for now, but his son wasn’t. He had missed his son just as much as he had missed Emma, and his son hadn’t even known who he was when Zelena had killed him.

“I don’t know. He should be with Snow.” Regina muttered guiltily, and Neal felt a shadow of anger rise in his stomach at her negligence.

“You don’t know?” He asked incredulously, and she raised an eyebrow.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we were a bit busy. Snow has a eye on him, I’m sure.” Regina defended, and Neal scoffed. “Fine.” She waved her hand and a purple cloud erupted out of her fingers. “I placed a tracking spell on Henry when the curse first broke, just as a precaution. He’s at Gold’s shop right now.”

“You couldn’t do that to begin with?” Neal asked, surprised that the Queen wouldn’t tell him where Henry was immediately instead of dragging it out. After a moment, he reconsidered. After his death, she had been Henry’s only other parent except for Emma, and had been his only one for most of his son’s life. Regina surely wasn’t too eager to have him back again.

Regina, to her credit, only said, “I don’t like to use it unless it’s necessary. He doesn’t need me tracking him all the time.” That he could understand, and he instantly felt guilty for snapping at her.

“Thank you.” Neal said, and Regina nodded stiffly. Robin placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked over to him. There was something in his gaze Neal couldn’t understand, but she did, and with a small wave from Robin and a tight-lipped nod from Regina, they walked away. With nothing else to do,Neal set off towards Main Street.

He had missed Henry terribly, and he was glad he was spending time with Rumple. He was surprised the heroes let him - he knew quite well what they thought of his father - but then again, it wasn’t like permission had ever really stopped Henry from doing what he wanted. 

 _Well, I’ll be killing two birds with one stone, I guess,_ he thought optimistically. Neal knew he and his father would always have a complicated relationship, but Neal had missed him terribly. They had parted on good terms, and he would always be grateful to his father for saving his life and getting him home to Emma and Henry, even if the latter hadn’t known who he was.

A large part of him was concerned with how Rumple had coped after he was gone. Neal could still feel bile rising in his throat at the memory of what Zelena had done to his father. It would have only gotten worse after he was dead, when Rumple was no longer being driven mad by two minds in one body. He was eternally grateful for his father saving his life long enough to get him back to Emma and Henry.

He passed Granny’s, and a mouth-watering smell of grease and coffee wafted out of the diner, despite the late hour. His stomach growled angrily, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything good since he died. Neal wanted to go in, but the thought of explaining his resurrection was suddenly exhausting. Especially when he knew most of them hadn’t cared about him or his father when they were enslaved by Zelena.

It still burned him up how the so-called heroes had reacted to his (and Rumple’s) living conditions in the castle, back in the Enchanted Forest. He had no doubt Belle had told them what had happened at the vault, and while she had been concerned for them, the heroes had only cared about his father’s help. He still couldn’t believe how selfish and uncaring the Charmings had been.

He could see them in the window of the diner, Charming looking serious and Snow cradling a baby. Neal knew he’d have to talk to them eventually, but it was better that he saw his father first, made sure he was alright, before going off.

A sliver of horror crawled up his spine. He assumed that his father was alright and out of Zelena’s clutches, but who knew if that was true? The heroes certainly hadn’t cared about his father’s well-being in the Enchanted Forest, and he doubted that changed once he was dead and it was just his father with Zelena. The urgency to see his father rushed through him, and he ran away from the diner and down the street towards the pawnshop.

He had no idea what he was even going to say to either his father or Henry, but it didn’t matter. He would think of something, but now what was most important was seeing his son and his father. Besides Emma, they were the only other people in the world who mattered to him right now- everyone else was a problem for another day.

* * *

“So he’s alive now?”

David sipped at his water after explaining what had happened to Snow, who was bouncing a fussy baby Neal. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the jist of it.”

Content that Neal was satisfied, at least for now, Snow slowly set him down in his carrier. When he whimpered, she rocked his carrier with her foot while she sipped her tea. “How’s Emma handling it?” She asked, biting into her grilled cheese.

“About as well as you’d expect.” David answered, smiling softly as Ruby dropped off another water at the table, making a silly face at Neal before leaving. Their daughter had been a common thread of discussion between the two of them, and he knew Snow was as worried as he was. “She ran off sobbing. And before you ask,” David interjected, when he saw her open her mouth, “I made sure she got home safe. I drove her home.”

Snow nodded solemnly. “I can’t imagine how confused she is.”

“I’ll run over in the morning and check on her.” David reassured, and she smiled softly.

“I bet Henry will be excited.” Snow observed with a smile.

David shrugged, and changed the subject. “Where is Henry, anyway? I’d assumed he would be with you.”

Snow gave him a guilty look, chewing her sandwich. After a second, she answered, “He went to see Gold.”

David nearly choked on his water. “And you let him?”

“Yes! As much as we hate him, he’s still Henry’s grandfather too, and well, until now, Gold was the only connection Henry had to his dad.” Snow defended, crossing his arms when he started to object.

“But-”

“No, David. Gold may be evil, but he loves Henry. That’s enough for me.” Snow stated, setting down her iced tea glass. It was obvious she considered the matter over and dealt with, but he didn’t. Gold was evil, and given how he had acted around both Belle and his own son, it was apparent Gold only cared about himself. It wasn’t good for Henry to be around that kind of influence, family or no.

He was seconds away from arguing with her when Mother Superior stepped up to their table. “I apologize for interrupting, Your Majesties, but am I to understand that Henry is with the Dark One right now?

“You heard correctly.” Snow answered hesitantly. Finally, someone could talk some sense into his wife. If anyone knew the evil of the Dark One, it was the Blue Fairy. She had been around just as long as the Dark One, and she knew the evil in Gold’s heart.

Mother Superior leaned closer, her voice dropping to not quite a whisper. “Do you know what he’s doing?”

Snow looked confused. “I believe he was making sure Gold and Belle got back safely.”

“Was there any doubt?” The nun asked, and David almost snorted. No doubt she had hoped Gold would never come back, and the concern in her voice seemed incredibly fake in light of her and Gold’s history together.

“Belle’s under a sleeping curse. There was something about Hades and a contract for their baby.” Snow explained, and David raised an eyebrow at the horror that crossed the Blue Fairy’s face. “Perhaps Henry is trying to wake Belle.” Snow surmised, and the Blue Fairy shook her head desperately.

“You can’t let them succeed. You can’t begin to imagine the evil you’ll unleash on the world if they succeed. You have to keep Henry and Gold from waking her.” The nun begged, and David exchanged a concerned look with Snow. What was the fairy talking about? There were others watching them now, no doubt alarmed by the panic in the fairy’s voice. “I can’t say anything more, but you can’t let them succeed. I beg of you.”

“Of-of course. We’ll try.” Snow affirmed, and the Blue Fairy smiled tightly before walking out.

* * *

Just as Neal reached the door of the pawnshop, another figure came barreling out, almost knocking both of them down to the ground in the process. Neal steadied the boy, grinning as he realized who it was. _God, he’s grown up so much._ “Hey, Henry.”

Henry looked up from his untied shoes, shocked. “Dad? What - I - how are you here?” Before Neal could answer the question, Henry nearly knocked him over again in his haste to hug him. He could feel the boy’s shoulders shaking slightly. In an attempt to comfort him, Neal pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “I missed you.” Henry murmured, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was buried in Neal’s coat. Neal could feel the shoulder getting damp, and he rubbed the boy’s back slowly.

Despite how tall he was (god, the kid was almost as tall as him now), Henry was still a kid, and no doubt this was a shock. The kid hadn’t even known who his father was when Neal had died, and he had probably gotten used to Killian’s presence in his life. Now Killian was gone and his father was back from the dead. This was bound to be just as confusing for Henry as it was for Emma, and he had seen how she responded.

After another moment, Henry pulled away, rubbing at his eyes and avoiding eye contact. God, the kid had grown up so much in such a short space of time, and Neal idly wondered what the cause was. He desperately hoped it wasn’t his death. Henry looked so much like him when he had been that age that it almost felt like looking in a mirror, but he could see Emma’s features in his face too. To be honest, Neal wasn’t sure which hurt worse at the moment.

“I still don’t understand. How are you here?” Henry asked, and Neal was reminded of Emma again - she had asked him the same thing both times he had spoken to her in Morpheus’ dream world. Henry may have gotten his looks, but his personality was all Emma’s.

“No, there would be, like, sentient bagels or something if this was a dream.” Neal said, pushing away the sense of deja vu.  “Zeus brought me back because Emma and Regina killed Hades. He gave them their True Loves back.”

Hope sparked to life in Henry’s eyes. “Does Mom know you’re back?”

Neal frowned, the memory of Emma sobbing and running away still way too fresh in his mind. “Yea, she knows.” He answered, and Henry’s smile fell.

“She’s...not happy?” Henry guessed, and god, Neal would do anything to take the disappointment out of his son’s voice right now. No doubt Henry had begun to foster the hope of his parents being together again, and Neal hated to be the one to crush it.

“I think we both know I wasn’t who she was expecting her True Love to be.” Neal explained, and Henry frowned.

“I guess.” Henry muttered sullenly, a hateful expression on his face. Whether the nasty emotion was directed towards Hook or Emma, he couldn’t tell, but after another second it was gone as if it had never been.

Neal patted him on the shoulder. “She’ll come around,” he reassured, “but only if we don’t pressure her, alright?” The words were as much comfort as they were warning, and he hoped Henry had taken both to heart. Emma needed some time to process, and that was alright with him, but he would be damned if their son would make her feel guilty for that.

Henry’s face turned stony, and Neal raised an eyebrow. After a split-second standoff, Henry relented with a sigh, before hugging him again. “I really missed you, Dad.” He mumbled into Neal’s shirt. Neal grinned - he wished every teenage (or soon-to-be teenage) argument was going to end like this, but he highly doubted it. Better to enjoy it while it lasted.

“I missed you too, Henry. So much.”

A pair of irritated voices interrupted them. “Henry!”

Henry looked over towards the sound, irritation on his face, and Neal looked over to see Snow and Charming approaching them. If either were surprised to see him, they didn’t show it, and Snow said, “We told you to come back to the diner.”

It inexplicably annoyed that they weren’t even acknowledging him, and Neal fought to keep his tone even as he said, “I stopped him on his way. I’m sure you can understand why.”

Snow seemed shocked to see him, and he wondered if Charming (who was regarding him coolly) had even told her about his return. “Neal! We didn’t realize you were here.” Based on the coolness in her voice, he assumed she knew what had happened. No parents were going to be a fan of the man who made their daughter cry, he supposed.

“Zeus brought me back.” He explained, and he bit back his irritation as Snow exchanged a knowing look with Charming. “Understandably, I wanted to see my son.” Even a deaf monkey wouldn’t have missed the possessiveness in his voice, and Charming raised an eyebrow. Neal looked to Henry, rankled by the feeling that the prince was judging him for something.

“I was on my way. Grandma. I wanted to talk to Dad.” Henry chimed in, smiling, but Neal could see a bit of irritation in his eyes.

Snow, to her credit, only let exasperation show on her face for a split second before she smiled. “Yes, well, I have to get Neal - this Neal,” she clarified when Neal looked confused, gesturing to the carrier in her arms, “to bed. And Henry, you have school tomorrow.”

“My apologies for keeping him.” Neal answered, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. Based on the strange look Henry gave him, he wasn’t sure he entirely succeeded, but he smiled at his son as if nothing was wrong. Neal nudged Henry’s shoulder, saying, “We’ll see each other soon, I’m sure.”

“I’m helping Grandpa tomorrow after school.” Henry suggested, and Neal almost missed the disapproval on the Charming’s face. “And I usually get hot chocolate at Granny’s before school, around 7.”

“What about this? I still have one more reunion to have, so I’ll let you go, and I’ll come have breakfast with you tomorrow.” Neal said, barely missing the confused frown on Snow’s face. Henry seemed satisfied at that, and he barely had time to note the mischievous gleam in his son’s eyes before the Charmings ushered Henry away. Neal fought to contain a sneer as Charming glanced over his shoulder at him, disapproval written all over the prince’s face.

A moment later, all three disappeared around the corner, and Neal was left with just one more person to see.

He couldn’t even begin to explain why, but it felt like it took all his courage to turn and walk into the pawnshop, but there was his papa, leaning over a ledger on the counter. The bell rang comically loud in the quiet of the shop, and Rumple sighed. “We’re closed.” He sounded so tired, more like the overworked spinner of his childhood than the Dark One.

Neal smiled tremulously and said, “I hope you can make an exception for me, Papa.”

Rumple’s head jerked up, staring him down as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. An exceedingly-tense moment passed before Rumple asked hesitantly, “Bae? Is that really you?”

Neal swallowed and answered, “Yea, Papa, it’s me. I’m really here.”

While he had been talking, Rumple had walked out from behind the counter (without limping, Neal noted with a smile). His Papa was still staring at him, like he couldn’t quite believe he was really there. After a second, the other man embraced him tightly.

After a moment, Neal hugged him back, his throat getting thick at the sound of Rumple’s sobs against his neck. He felt one hand cup the back of his head, and Rumple murmured, “Oh, Bae. My sweet, beautiful boy.”

“I missed you, Papa.” Neal consoled, and he felt more than heard Rumple’s breath hitch. It still sounded like his father didn’t quite believe he was here, and Neal added, “I’m so happy to be back.”

Neal pulled away, nearly breaking down at the sight of his Papa’s tear-stained face. Rumple cleared his throat self-consciously and said, “How did this happen? How are you here?”

“Emma and Regina killed Hades.” Neal explained, noting but not commenting - yet - on the glimmer of satisfaction that crossed his father’s face. “As a reward, Zeus gave them both their True Loves back. Regina got Robin, and, well, Emma got me, so here I am.”

“I - I didn’t even know that was possible.” Rumple said, his eyes darting back and forth, obviously deep in thought. “I trust you’ve seen Emma and Henry. Henry only just left the shop, actually.”

“Yea, I ran into Henry just outside the shop.” Neal said. “And Emma...well, Emma knows I’m here.” He couldn’t stop the disappointment from coloring his tone then, and Rumple gave him a curious look.

Eager to change the subject, Neal asked, “So what all did I miss?”

To his surprise, Rumple laughed. “Do you have all night? And possibly most of tomorrow?”

“That much, huh?”

“A lot has happened. We can’t seem to get a second of peace around here.” Rumple said, resignation in his voice. After a second, his face got sad. “I’m just sorry you couldn’t be here to see all of it. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Baelfire.”

Neal felt guilt and sadness rise in his stomach and violently squashed them down. Images of Zelena’s torture and taunting came rushing back, and he pushed them aside. They were both alive, and his Papa seemed okay, and that was all that mattered. “You did all you could, Papa, and I don’t blame you at all. Thank you for keeping me alive for so long.”

“But -”

“No.” Neal interrupted firmly. “You did your best, and you got me back to Emma and Henry. I can’t thank you enough.” Rumple didn’t look like he quite believed him, but he didn’t protest, and Neal took that as all the victory he was going to get.

The clock on the wall chimed 8:00 pm, effortlessly breaking the tension in the room. Once it had quieted, Neal asked, “Where’s Belle? If she’s expecting you, by all means…”

Neal didn’t think it was possible, but the look on Rumple’s face got even sadder, and the worst possible scenarios came rushing to his mind. Had Zelena killed her, or worse, forced Papa to kill her, like she had threatened to make him do so many times? Had Belle heard all of what Zelena did to his father and decided it was too much to deal with? He couldn’t really imagine the last one, but he couldn’t tell.

Rumple swept his hand out towards the back room, saying, “Come sit with me, this is going to take a while.”

* * *

Last night was a fog, and what she clearly remembered sucked, to be perfectly honest. Emma curled up under her quilt, pulling it over her head to block out the morning sun flooding in her window. Her head ached and her face felt itchy and tight, and her mouth tasted awful. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, trying to piece together the events of last night.

She remembered standing outside of Town Hall, all full of hope like she had been when she was a child hoping for a family. The pain in her throat from being choked by a god had faded in the wake of knowing she was going to get her True Love, her Killian, back.

She remembered waiting, waiting for a flash of a silver hook or a glimpse of leather, anything that would signal that Killian was about to walk out. They could finally be together with nothing between them and no tragedies in the town, her and Killian and Henry.

Most of all, she remembered the confusing mix of emotions that had occurred when Neal stepped out of the door instead of Killian. There was happiness, of course - Neal had been her first love, and she had been devastated when he died. Then there was guilt for being happy and anger at the thought that her trip to the Underworld had been for nothing. Then there was the grief at losing both Killian and Neal so close to each other and all the other emotions she had been pushing down. It was no wonder she exploded - she was practically an emotional time bomb.

Then Neal had looked at her, his deep brown eyes gleaming and a cautious smile on his face, and that bomb exploded.

Emma dimly remembered running away and David coming to find her. His arms had been warm, and she thought maybe he had carried her in his arms like she was a little girl again. He had tucked her into her bed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then left her alone in her room. The room she was supposed to share with Killian.

It didn’t seem possible, but somehow the thought that she would never have Killian back hurt even more than it had last night. Emma knew, logically, that one day the pain would end. She would get over him, and their time together would become nothing more than a collection of bittersweet memories.

But she had thought that about Neal, too. Every time he’d left, she hoped for that, and he just kept coming back.

Life could be a real bitch sometimes.

She had moved on, damn it! She and Killian were supposed to be happy together. They were both free of the Dark One curse, and without that, they could’ve been happy. She would have everything she wanted in life- a family in him and her son. With him gone, Emma wasn’t sure she could go on. He had been so integral to every part of her life, and she wished desperately she could have him back.

Somewhere in the confusing mix of pain and happiness and grief, she managed to fall asleep. Her head was pounding angrily, and her whole body was aching. The morning was cruelly bright, shining into her large empty room in her large empty house.

Emma knew she should leave her bed - at least, she knew it would make her feel better. Henry was waiting for her to have breakfast with him, and her parents would be worried about her. However, even the thought of moving felt like it would take too much effort, and she couldn’t bear the thought of going out. The news had to be all around town by now, and she wouldn’t be able to bear the pitying stares.

Even worse, somewhere Neal was waiting for an explanation, and most likely more. Their True Love status was confirmed now, after all.

Emma groaned and rolled away from the window - Henry would understand. No doubt Neal had seen their son already anyway, so Henry had to know what had happened. He would forgive her this once if he had to spend his breakfast alone. She didn’t feel like moving, or eating, or really anything that required getting out of bed.

Henry would understand.

* * *

Belle jerked awake, a mossy forest floor sodden underneath her head. The air smelled fetid and earthy, and when she opened her eyes, the clearing around her was surrounded by fog.

 _This isn’t right_ , she thought as she slowly got up. Her clothes were damp where she had been on the forest floor, and the chill of the air pierced her and made her shiver. She walked forward, squinting into the fog, the peaty ground squelching underneath her feet. Everything she had read about sleeping curses told her she should have woken up in a fiery room, so where in the hell was she?

Her breath billowed out in dense clouds in front of her as she spun around, simultaneously hoping for and dreading the sight of another living creature. She wished there was someone else around, just so she would have a greater clue as to where she was. Belle placed a hand on her stomach, imagining she could feel her baby. “It’s alright, baby. We’re alright.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to comfort the baby or herself, but she supposed it didn’t matter.

“Hello?” She called, and startled as a flock of crows flew out of the fog and up into the sky, cawing all the way. This couldn’t be the Enchanted Forest, surely, but it certainly wasn’t the fiery room of the sleeping curse either. This made no sense, and she hated it.

 _Oh, Rumple, I hope you get me home quick,_ Belle thought as she stumbled forward, holding onto tree trunks for balance just as much as guidance. She knew her father would wake her and then she could forget this awful, cold place.

As she stumbled forward, slipping on the wet ground and clinging to the twisted, leafless trees, another creature slunk out of the mist, watching silently. “Belle…” The figure hissed from underneath a cloak, a long, hooked nose the only thing visible.


	3. Chapter 3

Regina sipped her coffee sluggishly as the morning sun peeked over the harbor and the light crawled across Storybrooke. Robin was still asleep in bed, the golden light playing over his muscles in a way that would arouse her interest if she weren’t so tired. His face was still creased in anger, and she ran a hand through his short brown hair, trying to soothe him.

They had spent most of the night awake. Robin had started off angry - angry at Zelena, angry at Hades, angry at her - pacing around the bedroom like a caged lion and surely wearing a path in her carpet. His expression had been dark and after a few failed attempts to talk him down, she sat back and listened instead.

Around 3 AM, the anger had finally made way for the grief, and she had opened her arms. He hadn’t forgiven her, not quite yet, but he took the invitation. Regina had held him as Robin cried over his daughter and his own death, out of his mind with worry for the first and still trying to process the second. Around 5 AM, exhaustion took them both over and they laid curled in bed together, Robin’s head on her chest.

She had woken up feeling like she could still sleep for another day or two. A headache, which had started after her sobbing last night in front of the town hall, had only grown through the night, and the couple hours sleep had done nothing to eliminate it. Instead of refreshed, she felt achy and sore, and Regina hoped that maybe they could sleep better tonight.

If her sister - no, an evil witch - weren’t on the loose with an innocent baby in tow, she might have even suggested that they stay in today. It would give Robin time to recover, and perhaps they could work on a plan that would cause as little harm to everyone as possible. It was so tempting to set her coffee aside, slip back under the covers, and fall asleep again. However, the minute he was conscious he would want to go out and find his daughter, and she could hardly blame him for that. She would feel much the same if it were Henry.

Either way, the rich scent of her coffee was sure to rouse him any minute.

_Scratch that_ , Regina thought to herself as Robin’s lean muscles began shifting. After a moment of moving, he looked up from the pile of pillows, squinting into the morning sun with an adorable frown on his face. She laughed, more an exhalation of breath than any sound, but it was enough to turn his attention towards her.

“Morning.” He mumbled, sitting up sluggishly and stretching. Regina smiled softly and climbed out of bed to pour him a cup of coffee. When she had gotten back upstairs, he was dressed and sitting in the chairs they had placed in front of the windows in their bedroom. He was staring out at Storybrooke impassively, his hand rubbing his mouth, and that expression barely changed when she sat down next to him, her coffee in one hand and his held out to him with the other. “Did you sleep?” He asked softly.

“A little.” Regina answered. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So?”

His frown only seemed to get deeper, but he answered readily enough. “I’m going to gather the rest of the Merry Men and we’re going to find Zelena and my daughter.”

Regina felt her heart fall at his misunderstanding. “I was going to ask if you’re still angry with me, but sure, that sounds like a plan.” She tried not to snap at him - he had a right to his feelings - but she wanted to help find Zelena and she couldn’t do that unless Robin trusted her. His expression turned flinty over his coffee, and she knew she hadn’t succeeded entirely.

“We don’t need to discuss this right now, Regina. I’m more concerned with getting my daughter out of her clutches.” Robin replied evenly, his voice only breaking with anger on the word ‘her.’ He was furious, Regina could see it in his eyes and in the set of his shoulders, and she didn’t doubt Robin would kill Zelena if given the chance. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she would stop him.

“And you think I’m not?” She replied, praying she wouldn’t see skepticism on his face. He only raised an eyebrow before looking down into his coffee. She leaned forward in her chair, her elbows settled on her knees, her coffee making a ring on the windowsill. “I know you’re still angry with me, and I get that. But I want to help find them and I need to know you trust me to do that.”

He didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her, though she could see his jaw working. Regina’s shoulders slumped and she settled back in her chair. After another, exceedingly awkward moment, Robin replied, “I don’t know, Regina. I just...I don’t know. I want to trust you, but my daughter is out there with her is because of you.” He looked over to her, his expression heavy with the weight of the words he was saying. “I want to.”

It wasn’t great, but it was a start. Regina couldn’t say it didn’t hurt though. She pushed down her own feelings - it wouldn’t do to waste time getting in an argument now. “She killed you, Robin, and then gloated about it. I want her out of our lives just as much as you. Can you at least trust me on that?”

Robin’s eyes softened, crinkling at the corners as a small smile touched his lips. He reached out and cradled the side of her face with his hand, his thumb rubbing tenderly over her cheekbone. “That, I believe. We’ll do this together.”

Regina smiled softly and pressed a small kiss to the palm of his hand. He settled back, sipping the rest of his coffee. It was a start. She knew it would take some time for him to trust her again, but she could work on repairing that trust once his daughter was home safe in their arms. And considering he had been dead only 10 hours ago, she was lucky that she even had the chance. “I’m glad, because your plan’s not going to work.”

“I’m listening.”

“Zelena has magic, Robin.” She pointed out. “Even if you and the Merry Men do find where she’s holed up, it’s unlikely you’ll be able to get in. And the minute she knows you found her, the whole hide-and-seek will start all over again.”

“What do you suggest then? We let her go with my daughter? We do nothing?” Robin nearly yelled, his fingers tapping incessantly on the windowsill. She tamped down the anger at being snapped at - lord knew if it were Henry in this situation, she would be testy too. _Probably more than just testy, to be honest,_ she thought to herself wryly.

“You’re jumping to conclusions.” Regina said. “We simply need to find where she’s hiding without physically searching for her. And I know something that can help.”

* * *

 

The gentle heat of the morning sun on his face woke him the next morning. Neal cracked open his eyes, squinting at the light peeking in through the pawn shop windows. A glance at the clock on the wall declared it was just past 6 AM. He groaned and let his head fall down to his chest - it was much too early to be awake, but after being dead for months, Neal didn’t think he would be able to go back to sleep even if he wanted to.

Neal groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was so early, and he’d never been a morning person to begin with. He let his head fall back down to his chest, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d fall back asleep for just a little bit more, just enough where he felt rested.

Alas, it was not to be. Even if his brain was still tired from trying to process everything that had happened - Emma, Henry, his father, Belle - his body was raring to go. There was no hope of falling back asleep now, not with the sunlight slowly getting stronger and the sound of soft snoring from across the room.

Neal looked up to see his father slumped in the other chair, bent over with his bad leg propped up on a stool. Rumple’s face was pressed against the desk, a position which could not be comfortable and more than likely would make his leg even more sore than usual. Or at least, sore, now that the limp was gone, repaired with Zelena’s magic.

Neal pushed that thought away, the memory of witch’s green skin and crazed eyes filling his mouth with bile. Now that he had fully woken up, he could remember yesterday’s events more clearly. Emma running off. Henry and the Charmings’ strange behavior. Reuniting with his father and discussing all that he had missed.

They had both stayed awake until nearly 2 in the morning, talking about all that had happened, both before and after his death. They had both been too tired to move by the time they were finished and had simply just fallen asleep where they sat.

Another soft snore emitted from Rumple’s mouth, and Neal smiled softly, his thoughts turning towards mornings in their hovel, waking up to see his father asleep against the spinning wheel. _Well, this is a little better than that_ , Neal thought to himself. No doubt, his Papa would still be waking up sore, given his position in the hard chair.

Honestly, Neal was more surprised the man could sleep at all. When he had been younger and Rumple had just taken on the mantle of the Dark One, his Papa had never slept, the magic so unsettled that it left him jittery and anxious. Logically, Neal knew that the curse had settled now, and in the Land Without Magic, was more...subdued, but it was still a little strange. Especially now that the curse was stronger than ever before.

Neal wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that either, if he was being fair. Rumple had been more open and honest last night than Neal had ever known - quite frankly, he was sure the other man didn’t quite believe he was alive. Rumple had explained everything from beginning to end, from motivation to action, and didn’t attempt to justify his mistakes.

“I did terrible things to free myself of this curse, Bae.” He had said about his banishment to New York, subdued and seeming more than a little uncomfortable. His eyes had flicked over to the cursed Belle, softening around the corners. “I don’t blame her in the slightest for banishing me.”

Neal certainly didn’t approve of his father’s actions since their imprisonment by Zelena, especially in regards to Belle, but he could at least understand them. Or attempt to, at least. After all the raw honesty he had gotten last night, Neal could give his father that.

Rumple snuffled, drawing him out of his thoughts and back to the present. Neal smiled softly and stood up, wincing at the crick in his neck as he did.

He shook his father’s shoulder gently, saying, “Papa. Papa, wake up.”

Rumple stirred before blinking blearily in the morning light. “What time is it?” He slurred, looking around like he wasn’t quite sure where he was or how he had gotten there.

Neal glanced up at the clock before saying, “It’s 6:30, Papa. You should go home and get some sleep.”

Rumple stood, flexing his leg with a motion that seemed more out of habit than of necessity, and looked down to the pile of papers and books on his desk. Neal noted that he very pointedly didn’t look over to where Belle still laid, trapped in her endless slumber. Rumple looked up at the clock and said, “Not much point, I think. The shop opens in a few hours, and with Zelena on the loose...again, I fear my help will be needed before I even open the door.”

He looked worn and tired, and Neal suspected it was more than just the late night and early rising. A bone-deep weariness cloaked his father like a shroud, and Neal wondered idly whether it was because of the town’s need for his help, Zelena, or just the weight of having lived for centuries.

Whatever the cause, there was little he could do except support his father as much as he could. And a good way to start was with a good cup of coffee, at least in his opinion.

“If you insist on staying awake, at least let me go get some coffee.” Neal suggested, and Rumple nodded his acceptance, his attention focused on a thick yellowed tome lying open on his desk, which Neal hadn’t even noticed him getting out. “What’s that?”

“I’m working on waking Belle.” Rumple said distractedly, writing something down on the legal pad to his right in a fine, looping script. “But coffee would be nice, thank you.”

Neal could recognize a dismissal when he heard one, and given that he hadn’t even so much as smelled a decent cup of coffee since his death, he needed little prodding to take the bait. There had been no need for coffee in the afterlife - they had never really gotten tired, and it was only Zeus’s machinations that determined when they ‘slept’ - so even diner coffee sounded good.

He peeked out the front window of the shop and saw Granny Lucas putting out the specials board for the morning, while inside the diner, lights were flicking on. Good, he thought to himself. In worse news, he also Regina and Robin walking down the street towards the pawnshop, their faces grim. “You’re about to have some company, Papa.” He called.

A loud, exasperated sigh sounded from the back room, “What a surprise.” Rumple stepped out of the back room a few moments, fiddling with the cufflinks on his wrists as he stood behind the shop counter. “I’m sure this will be interesting.”

Interesting or no, Neal needed coffee before he could deal with magic or whatever Regina was coming for. With a nod to his father, he stepped out the door, holding it open for Regina and Robin as they passed him. As he walked down the street towards the diner, he could feel people’s eyes on him. Neal stared straight ahead, suddenly afraid that if he looked, he would see wild red hair and green skin around every corner. It was a relief when the door to Granny’s diner closed behind him.

Or, at least it would’ve been, had not every diner in for the pre-work rush gone silent on his arrival. Everyone facing the door stared, and their various companions followed suit, some actually physically turning in their chairs to look. His nerves tingled at the feeling, his mind subconsciously replacing every stare with Zelena’s leer. Neal shoved his hands in his coat pockets in an attempt to hide their shaking as he stepped up to the counter.

Granny cleared her throat loudly, and whatever spell that had come over in the diner seemed to dissipate. Diners went back to their conversations as he had never come in (thought perhaps they were a little quieter now), and Granny fixed him with a sharp look over her half-moon spectacles. “What can I get you?”

It was so relieving to be treated like a normal person that for a moment he forgot what he came in for. “Umm...two coffees, please, Granny.” Neal said, trying to keep his eyes from drifting over to the display of fresh pastries on the counter. He could always get one when he came back to meet Henry for breakfast.

Granny stared disapprovingly before briskly pouring coffee into two to-go cups and pushing them over to him. “They’re on the house for today, and when you come back, you’re having a real breakfast. I won’t hear a word cross-wise - consider it a welcome back present.”

“Wow, thank you.” Neal said, his chest warming at her generosity. A snide part of him reminded him that this was the warmest welcome he’d received from anyone except his own family, but he pushed that aside. It didn’t matter now. He grabbed the coffees off the counter, tipped his head to her and walked back down the street.

_I’ll need to get a job_ , he thought as he walked, starting to realize how much he would need to catch up on. Logically, he knew there was money still in savings in New York, but his wallet was as good as gone by now. And while he was sure his father would help him if he asked, that wasn’t a permanent (or attractive) solution.

Neal carefully opened the shop door, balancing the coffees one on the top of the other as he did so, and called out, “Papa, I’ve got the coffee. What did Regina and Robin want?” He bent down to look at some of the things in the case. When a few seconds had passed and his father didn’t reply, Neal stepped into the back room to see his father sitting by Belle’s sleeping form, staring off into space. “Papa?”

Rumple seemed to shake himself, dropping Belle’s hand as he looked up. “You’re back.” He stated, standing up and leaning over the table, flicking through a large, dusty book quickly. “How was Granny’s this morning?”

“It was fine. Crowded.” Neal answered slowly. “What did Regina and Robin want?”

Rumple’s hand clenched on the tabletop, his knuckles turning white. “Zelena stole Robin’s baby girl. They’re going out to search for her, but they needed something from me first.” The clocks in the front of the shop rang out the time, and that seemed to draw his Papa out of his anger. “I’m sure they’ll find her.” He murmured, looking back to his book.

It was clear that whatever Regina and Robin had said, it had not left his Papa in a mood for company. Neal sat the coffee cup down by his father’s hand and said, “I’m going to meet Henry for breakfast. Do you want me to bring anything back?”

“No, I’ll be alright. Go enjoy your breakfast and leave an old man to his thoughts.”

Neal shook his head. “Papa, you should at least eat something.” Rumple harrumphed but didn’t reply, scribbling something down on a notepad by his left arm. “You know I’ll just bring something back anyway, and I know what you don’t like.” He joked, and to his relief, Rumple chuckled before looking up.

“You would defeat your purpose if you brought me something I wouldn’t eat.” He commented before pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “Just bring me back a sandwich. Now go, before you’re late.”

Neal nodded, taking the money his father held out, and rushed off down the street. Even from the door he could see Henry waving to him from the front of the diner, and he allowed that to distract him from the piercing stares he could feel from the people around him.

“Hey, Henry.” Neal said as he jogged up to the diner. “How’s it going?” The conversation felt a little awkward, but he supposed when one of the two participants had been dead for a few months, there was bound to be a transitional period. _Or more_ , he thought to himself, thinking of Emma, then immediately shoved the thought aside.

“Good, I guess.” Henry said, readjusting his school bag on his shoulder awkwardly. “Grandpa and I are trying to wake Belle up.”

They stepped into the diner together, Neal nodding to Granny as she looked up. She smiled thinly and motioned to a table, before leaning over and talking to one of her waitresses. “How is that going?” Neal asked, sliding into one side of the booth.

“You would know better than me, I think.” Henry said, smiling as the waitress slid a cup of hot chocolate in front of him. “Weren’t you with him this morning? I mean, I saw you leaving the shop…”

“It’s going okay, I think. I don’t know, we weren’t really talking about that, Henry. But I think it’s nice of you to help him.” Neal said, sipping the coffee the waitress slid in front of him. “How long until you have to leave for school?”

“The bus usually pulls up around 7:30.” Henry said distractedly, his eyes flicking to the front window of the diner. Granny slid a plate of pancakes in front of each of them, and that seemed to draw him back out again. “So, what was the afterlife like?”

Neal coughed over his coffee, trying not to laugh. The question was blunt in a way that only kids could really accomplish, as most adults would probably be too polite to bring up someone’s death (not that resurrection happened too often). “It was alright. Pretty boring, mostly.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be like this perfect place where nothing bad ever happens?” Henry asked, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s not like Heaven, kid. I still had all my memories of here, so I missed you and your mom terribly.”

Henry bit his lip and stared down into his hot chocolate, stirring the cooled liquid with one finger. Neal had a feeling he was thinking about something very deeply, and as he ate, he marveled at how quickly Henry had grown up in what seemed like so short a time. The kid was only 13 and somehow seemed much older than that.

After another moment, Henry spoke again. “Are you and Mom going to talk to each other?” He asked lowly, dragging his finger through the rings of water on the table in order to avoid meeting Neal’s eyes.

Neal frowned and rubbed his mouth; now it was his turn to stare into his coffee. “Eventually. She needs some time to process all of this. Like I said last night, Henry, I wasn’t the person she expected to come back. It’s a lot for one person to take in all at once.”

“But doesn’t running from it just make it worse?” He asked. “I mean, if she would just talk to you, maybe that would make it better.”

“Only if she makes that choice on her own.” Neal answered sternly, and Henry frowned. “And we’re not going to force her to make it, am I clear?”

“Yes, Dad.” Henry muttered, his eyes still flicking every once in a while to the door. He had a strong feeling Henry was going to keep trying no matter what he said, but Neal still held out hope that maybe he wouldn’t try and make Emma confront this. It would have to be dealt with at some point - they couldn’t avoid each other entirely in a town as small as Storybrooke - but it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet.

Too soon, the school bus pulled up on the opposite corner and Henry ran out the door, waving goodbye as he left, and Neal could almost swear he saw Emma waiting for their son through the bus windows. Then the bus left and whoever he saw was gone


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Gold have a heart-to-heart. Meanwhile, under the curse, Belle meets someone who might be able to help her.

Henry walked into the pawnshop after school, peeking through the shop’s curtains to make sure that Grandma and Grandpa weren’t around. They had been on him like peanut butter on toast this morning, and he had been lucky to even be able to get breakfast with his dad. He had only narrowly escaped school without their notice, and he wondered what their sudden interest in keeping him from the pawnshop was. “Grandpa Gold! I’m here!” He called, dumping his backpack on the floor by the door.

Rumple looked up as he stepped through the curtain separating the two rooms. “Hello, Henry.” Gold said, shoving a thick book underneath his desk as he did so. “How was school today?’

“Fine.” He replied, pretending not to notice the wifts of red smoke that snuck from beneath the counter where the book was now hidden. _Wards_ , he thought to himself, wondering what was in the book that could be so dangerous. “How are things going here?” Henry asked, pushing away his curiosity - for now.

Rumple’s grimace told him all he needed to know. He turned away, running his fingers along a collection of books, and Henry took the opportunity to sit down next to Belle. “Hi, Grandma. We’re going to wake you soon, I’m sure of it.” He knew she couldn’t hear him, of course, but he still hoped the sentiment would get through the magic even if the words didn’t.

Too soon, Grandpa Gold interrupted. “I have a book for you to look through, Henry.”

Henry sat down beside the table, his eyes widening as Rumple dropped a thick, dusty book in front of him and shoved a pad of paper and a pen towards him. “Start here, and use paper to mark whatever seems useful to you.”

“I thought we were going to do spells or something.” Henry muttered, staring wide-eyed at the book in front of him with some trepidation. Where would he even begin? He opened the book, wincing at the spine began cracking and groaning, and gulped at his first view of the closely-set text. _Well, at least it’s in English_ , he said, trying to comfort himself.

Rumple chuckled as he pulled another book out, glancing at the spine before setting it aside. “We may, but we have to find the right one to use first. Magic takes too much of a price to just go using it with no research first.”

Henry looked at the book again. _This is going to be much harder than a comic book,_ he thought to himself, pulling the book closer. “What am I looking for, exactly?” He flipped through the pages, noting with dismay that the text seemed to get more densely packed at the pages went on. A glance at the spine revealed it to be _A Compendium of Potion Ingredients and their Various Uses._

“Anything that can be used in sleeping potions. I may be able to craft an antidote.” Rumple said, but he didn’t sound very hopeful. It was clear, at least to Henry, that his grandfather didn’t really expect this to go anywhere, but still hoped - even a little - that it might. He had been alive hundreds of years; if there was a cure for a sleeping curse that wasn’t True Love’s Kiss, no doubt he would’ve found it by now.

“Well, I’m the Author.” Henry piped up after thinking about the situation. “Couldn’t I just write her awake?” He glanced towards the front of the shop where his backpack - and the storybook and pen - lay waiting. He was starting to understand how Isaac had turned out the way he did - the thought of all that power at his pen tip was both thrilling and terrifying.

Rumple’s head jerked up, a stern look on his face. “And what would be the price of that, do you think?” He questioned, his fingers tapping against the desk rapidly. “Taking someone’s free will from them and forcing them to play your game?” His face had turned red with anger, and Henry shrunk back a little.

He had obviously hit a nerve. “I’m sorry. It was just a suggestion.”

“Take care that it remains so.” Rumple admonished, the anger not quite faded from his face. “If you give in once, it only makes it easier to give in again.”

Henry didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he settled for nodding and going back to his book. They worked together in a tense silence that was only broken by the scratching of pens on paper and the wispy sound of pages flipping. After a few minutes, Rumple spoke again, this time with sorrow in his voice. “I apologize for snapping at you, lad.”

“It’s alright.” Henry shrugged. Killian had snapped at him before too, when no one was around. Mainly about how he should use his Author powers for better things. It wasn’t such a big deal anymore, but he knew it was to his grandfather. “I’m sorry if I upset you.” Henry added after another moment.

Rumple looked up from his book, his brown eyes gleaming suspiciously, and Henry wondered if anyone had ever said that to him before. _Probably not_ , he thought to himself, remembering the way his grandparents, his moms, and Killian would talk about Rumple when they thought Henry wasn’t listening.

“Just be careful, my boy. I know better than anyone how tempting power can be, especially when you’ve never had it before.” Rumple lectured, his eyes glued to Henry’s. Henry had the distinct feeling that his grandfather wasn’t so much looking at him as looking straight through him. “Everything in life hangs in a precarious balance, even power, and it’s easy to upset the balance. Easier than you might think.”

They were silent for another few moments, before Henry asked hesitantly. “It’s just so tempting sometimes. How do you deal with it?”

Rumple let out a short and rather-derisive sounding laugh, and Henry had the feeling his grandfather’s derision was more directed at himself than at him. “If I knew that, my boy, I’d be in a much different position today.” Seeing the disappointed look on Henry’s face, he added in a more serious tone, “The solution is going to be different for everyone. You have to find that light in your life and cling to it, allow it to lead you out of the darkness. For centuries, I clung tightly to the hope that I would see my son again, and that helped me to resist the darkness for centuries. But it may be different for you - in the end, only you can find it.”

Henry gulped and cautiously asked, “Is losing my dad part of why you killed Zelena and tried to steal my mom’s magic?” It was a dangerous line of questioning, and even though he had complete faith that Rumple wouldn’t hurt him, he still shrunk back a little when Rumple’s face darkened. After a second, the anger faded, replaced by a bone deep sorrow as his grandfather’s eyes flicked over to the sleeping Belle.

“Aye, that was part of it, yes.” Rumple murmured, almost too quietly for Henry to hear. “Now, let’s say we get back to our own books, right?” He turned away then, leaving Henry little choice to return to his own reading. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rumple pull out the mysterious book from under the counter, his back turned to Henry as he continued his own research.

He wanted to see what was in the book. The secrecy of it had an almost magnetic draw to him, and unwillingly Henry’s mind turned towards how he could get a peek into what it was. It was obvious to him that whatever solution his grandfather was thinking of, it wouldn’t be found in a potion, or in any of the other books that were strewn across the countertops.

It was clear to him that whatever answer they were searching for was in the one book he wasn’t allowed to see.

They worked separately in silence for what felt like hours, and when the shop’s bell rang, Henry was dismayed to discover that he had only made it through a quarter of the book with no results to show for it. To his embarassment, he realized he had been unable to focus, and he could clearly see the disappointment on Rumple’s face when he turned to go greet their visitor and saw how little progress Henry had made.

But before Rumple could step out of the backroom (or even make more than a couple steps in that direction), Snow and Charming came rushing into the backroom, their faces grim.

“Ah, of course, how can I help you now? It must be very important for you to come barging into my closed shop.” Rumple greeted, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“It is important.” Snow said, and Henry wasn’t sure whether she didn’t know he was being sarcastic or was just choosing to ignore it. She adjusted Neal’s carrier over her arm and continued, “We’ve come to get Henry.”

Henry looked up, confused. “It’s Tuesday. I stay with Mom and Robin.” He said, and Snow shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Henry, but they’re still out searching for Zelena. She called to ask if we would take you tonight instead.” She didn’t sound very sorry to him. Henry looked down to his book, trying to hold back the feeling of disappointment. “We thought we’d walk you home, maybe get some ice cream?” It was bribery and they all knew it, but Henry let it go.

Rumple pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “You don’t trust that I’d bring the boy back safe and sound? I’m insulted.”

David huffed out a biting laugh. “You think I’d trust you with my grandson? At this point, Rumpelstiltskin, I wouldn’t trust you with a rock.”

“As much as I’d love to be in charge of your brain, I’m afraid I have work to do.” Rumple said, and Henry hid a laugh behind his hand. David looked confused and irritated, and Snow didn’t look much happier. “I think we’ve gotten as far as we can tonight, isn’t that right, lad?”

Henry hopped down off the stool, pulling the book towards him. “I’ll be back tomorrow to help out some more.” He said, feeling - and ignoring - the disapproval radiating from behind him.

Snow spoke up. “No, you won’t. You have homework to do, and I need you to watch Neal. I’m afraid your little project will have to wait for another day.” Henry looked over, a frown on his face. She hadn’t said anything about that, and she was usually good about letting him know sooner than this.

Henry was about to protest when Rumple cut him off. “It’s alright, lad. I can manage by myself for a few days. After all, I’m sure Belle’s not suffering under her sleeping curse or anything like that.” Only a fool would’ve missed the raw, primal anger in his voice. The Charmings seemed discomfited, looking anywhere but at Rumple, whose hands were clenched.

Snow carried on anyway. “Henry’s schoolwork is important. You are centuries old, I’m sure your problems can wait for one more day so he can catch up.”

Rumple gave an exaggerated bow. “Why, of course your Majesties. Don’t let me keep you any longer.” They nodded stiffly and left, and Rumple glared at their backs as they walked into the front room. Henry walked over and hugged him tightly, and Rumple patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Go on, lad. Best get to your schoolwork and overcome half of your genetics. I can go on on my own for a little bit.”

“Bye, Grandpa Gold!” Henry ran out of the pawnshop, grabbing his backpack on the way out, and jogged to catch up with his grandparents. As he did so, he realized that not once during the entire conversation did they say Belle’s name, or even acknowledge she was there at all.

* * *

Belle let out a very unladylike curse as her foot slipped off the soggy path - again  - and plunged into the icy water up to the knee. Only a lightning-fast grab for one of the slimy vines hanging around her had saved her from falling in head-over-heels. Possibly for the fifth time in the last hour, Belle hoped that Rumple had gotten her home by now and her father was about to wake her any second.

She cursed again when she pulled her foot out and her boot remained stuck in the mud at the bottom. Now she had no idea where she was, no idea how or when she would get out, _and_ no shoes.

She gingerly placed her foot down, lest she slip in again or cut her feet on the twigs and moss that covered the ground. Thankfully, the vine, as slimy and disgusting as it was, helped her keep her balance as she moved along to the next little island that peppered the swamp.

Belle breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down on the ground, happy to finally make it to solid ground and not feel in danger of slipping everywhere. She could feel the seat of her pants start getting wet from the damp ground beneath her, but ignored it. Everything she was wearing was already damp from the pervasive fog, so what was one more thing?

She bent and put her head on her knees, her heavy breath billowing out and warming her slightly. This was hopeless. Belle felt as if she had been walking for hours and she was still no closer to finding out where she was. She was cold, she was wet, and all she wanted was to go home and see her father and Storybrooke, where her baby was no longer in danger.

Well, at least, not from Hades.

Even here, separated from Rumple and his revelation both by time and by a curse, she could still feel the anger burning in her stomach. Everything he did put her in danger, and she wasn’t sure he even gave a second thought to that. Even if he did, she doubted that he cared either. No, it was all about power. It had never been about them.

Even if she did make it out of here, what was there to go back to? Her relationship with both Rumple and her father was in ruins and no one in that town cared about her beyond her research abilities. She could only think of one thing worth going back for and that thing was currently snug and warm in her stomach.

A tiny smile came to her face as she rubbed her stomach, imagining she could feel her baby moving around inside. “At least you and I will be together, right baby?” She said. Belle had no idea what would happen when she got back, but she would never let go of her child, not for anything.

Belle looked up as the clearing began darkening. There was a storm coming in, and she would need to find some sort of shelter fast. She was already damp as it was, and the chill was coming on fast. Already she could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, and she stood, rushing away in the opposite direction from the coming storm.

She hopped on her toes down the path, chased by the sound of the strong wind rushing through the trees above her, bringing the storm on with a frightening speed. Within fifteen minutes, the rain was coming down in sheets, soaking her to the skin and blurring her vision. Belle prayed for some sort of shelter as she rushed along, even hoping for a hollow tree to sit in while the storm went by.

She couldn’t even see the rocks in her path. With a gasp, she slipped, hitting her head on the ground and tumbling into the swampy water. Belle couldn’t muster the energy to swim to the surface, or even react as a shadowy figure appeared above the water, reaching one hand towards her as her eyes slipped shut.

* * *

 

The first thing Belle sensed was the smell of cooking food. Her stomach rumbled angrily, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for the last two days. While she wasn’t quite sure why she needed to eat if her body wasn’t technically here, she wasn’t going to question it with such a delicious, mouth-watering smell of roasted meat in the air.

She was warm and dry under a thick blanket, and she could hear the rain drumming against the roof angrily. Her head was pounding angrily, all the pain centered around her right ear, and she struggled to remember how she had gotten here. She remembered the rain, and then slipping, but everything after got a little blurry.

The door creaked open, bringing with it a breeze that whipped through the whole cabin. Belle rolled her head, wincing as her head began to pound, and cracked her eyes open. A tall figure in a long cape stepped in, pushing the door shut behind her. She pushed her hood back to reveal a mass of curly blonde hair and a warm countenance.

“It’s good to see you awake! I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.” The woman said, dropping some strange looking plants of some kind onto the table and walking over to sit by Belle. “Here, turn your head, let me take a look.” Before Belle could even react, the woman turned her head, obviously inspecting where she had hit it. “Yes, your head is looking much better. I’d say you should be able to be up and about in a few days. It will be so nice to have company.”

She helped Belle sit up slowly, propping the pillows up so Belle could lean against them. Belle swallowed thickly, and asked, “Where am I? What happened?”

“It’s storming something awful out there. No one should be out in this weather, much less in the swamps. I had been hunting out there earlier in the day, and I’m afraid I quite lost my way. I had just started to find my way back home when the rain started, and then I saw you run by and fall in, and of course, I couldn’t just let you drown, so I brought you back here.”

“Thank you.” Belle said, still feeling like there was something important she was missing. She tried to figure it out, but even the effort of sitting up had made her tired and woozy. The woman smiled, patting her hand, and stood to chop the vegetables. “Who are you?” She asked quietly.

The woman looked over, and answered, “I’m Vasilisa. And you?”

“Belle.” She answered.

After a few moments, Vasilisa stood, dumping all the vegetables in the pot over the fireplace, and stared down into it, stirring it with a long spoon, and Belle took the opportunity to look around. A small roasted rabbit was lying on the table, waiting to be torn apart and thrown in the stew. The cabin was small and cramped, but clean; it was obvious that despite her meager belongings, Vasilisa took pride in her home. Belle also noted with some dismay that there was not another bed - this stranger had given up her own bed to help someone else. _What’s the price?_ A voice in her head that sounded a lot like Rumple said, and Belle pushed the thought away. Some people were just good.

Belle was so lost in her internal battle that she didn’t even notice Vasilisa sit down next to her until the other woman pressed a hot cloth to the bump on her head. She hissed in pain - the wound must be open - and Vasilisa murmured a word of apology. “Where am I?”

Vasilisa looked concerned. “I told you, we’re in my home. How hard did you hit your head there, ducky?”

Something about that pet name seemed familiar, but Belle couldn’t put her finger on it. Perturbed and still curious, Belle pushed on. “No, what realm am I in? I was - or am, I mean - under a sleeping curse, and I don’t understand how I got here.”

The other woman froze. “This is the Baba Yaga’s realm.”


	5. Chapter 5

Regina and Robin stumbled in the door of the mayor’s mansion at half-past two in the morning, discouraged and absolutely exhausted with nothing to show for all their efforts. No matter what step they took, Zelena seemed to always be two steps ahead of them. After nearly eighteen hours of searching, the Merry Men had finally convinced an angry Robin to go home and get a few hours sleep. If Roland hadn’t tugged on his sleeve and asked when bedtime was, Regina didn’t think Robin would’ve even given in.

Robin shuffled in right behind her with Roland in his arms, the little boy clinging to his father’s neck in his sleep. Regina turned and locked the door behind them before suggesting, “Why don’t you go eat something and I’ll put Roland to bed.” She made to reach for the boy, to take him from Robin, but Robin jerked away, clutching the back of Roland’s jacket a little tighter.

Regina tried to ignore the hurt blossoming in her stomach at the fear in his eyes - if she had lost a child, she’d probably be a little protective too. Instead she backed off, saying, “I’ll go get some dinner instead. He’d probably like to be tucked in by you.” It wasn’t a particularly tactful concession, but it would have to do.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Robin whispered, but before she could reply, he had started up the stairs, careful not to jostle the little bundle in his arms. Regina wanted to call out to him, but even if she hadn’t been afraid of waking Roland, she would have no idea what to say. She didn’t know how to make him feel better, and she hated feeling useless.

Not that she thought her comfort would help him much anyway. She leaned against the kitchen counter, pinching the bridge of her nose. Robin had hardly spoken to her all day, and while she knew no good would come of forcing him to talk to her, she still wished he would.

Regina pulled some leftover lasagna from the fridge and popped in the microwave. She watched it spin around and around, trying to think of why he wouldn’t talk to her. After they had left Rumple’s shop - without the globe she had gone looking for, of course, Rumple had said she wouldn’t need it - he had been annoyed, though at the time she had thought it was more towards Rumple than her. As the day wore on and they were still no closer to finding his daughter than they had been before, his words had gotten shorter and shorter, both with her and the other Merry Men. By the end of the day, he had lapsed into a sullen silence, only broken by barked out orders.

The beeping of the microwave brought her out of her thoughts. She laid their food out side-by-side, waiting to hear the sound of his boots thumping down the stairs. She picked at her lasagna, too hungry to wait, and startled as she heard the shower start up.  _Well, I guess he’s not coming down then._  She covered both their plates and put them back in the fridge before going upstairs carefully.

After peeking her head in Henry’s old room to see Roland out like a light, Regina went into their bedroom, stopping short at the sound of sobbing over the drumming of water on tile. That hard shell that had started to form around her heart over the course of the day cracked and crumbled around her in the face of his grief. Robin was still angry with her and snappish with everyone else, but beneath the exterior he was trying so hard to keep up, he was a desperately-worried father who had hardly seen his daughter since she’d been born.

Her mind flashed back to Henry and how petrified she had been when he ran off to Boston to find Emma, or when he had been stuck in the mines with the cricket, or when he had almost died if not for a True Love’s Kiss from Emma.

She knew all too well how terrifying it was to know your child was in danger and not be able to stop it.

Regina sunk against the door to the bathroom, completely at a loss for what to do. Not for the first time today, she cursed Zelena (she could no longer think of the witch as her sister). She had tortured and tormented Robin for so long, and now every time Regina closed her eyes, she could see Zelena laughing as Regina cradled Robin’s dead body in her arms. Now she left them both with the worst torture imaginable - the thought that their little girl was being harmed the same way they had been for so long.

Regina wanted so badly to storm into the bathroom and hold Robin, both to comfort him and ground herself in the reality that they were there, together, and alive. He needed to know that they would face this head-on, together, and that maybe one day, they could be a family, her and Robin and Roland and their little baby girl.  

She stopped herself just shy of going through with it. He wouldn’t like it - it was painfully obvious that he had wanted to be alone, that he didn’t want her to know he was suffering. That didn’t even take into account that he was still angry with her too.

No, she couldn’t go in, but it didn’t feel right to just ignore it either, to climb into bed and fall asleep while he suffered.

In the end, she changed and perched on her side of the bed, waiting silently for him to come out. She didn’t have to wait long. It had only been mere seconds since she had sat down when Regina heard the water turn off, and a minute later, Robin came out, wearing just his pants and a sour expression, his eyes red and puffy.

“I thought you were coming to eat.” She said quietly, not sure where to start.

“I wasn’t hungry.” He said gruffly. Robin laid down on his side of the bed, his back turned towards her, metaphorically and physically shutting her out. She wanted to hold him, wanted to tell him that his daughter wouldn’t hate him if he took a little time for himself, but the words stuck in her throat. She would be the same if this were Henry right now, so she knew anything she could say would be meaningless.

Regina laid down against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. Next to her, she could feel Robin shifting, and a side glance at him revealed him in the same position she was. His eyes were closed, but his muscles were still tense and his face hadn’t relaxed, so she knew he wasn’t asleep.

She fumbled for his hand beneath the covers, searching for his warmth. If he couldn’t believe that everything was going to be okay, then she would have to believe it enough for both of them. That was the least she could do for getting them both into this mess.

* * *

 

Neal sighed and let the morning edition of the _Storybrooke Mirror_ fall to the table. He rubbed his face tiredly and took another swig of his cooling coffee, hoping that maybe if he looked away for a few minutes, more jobs would magically appear, in like a watched-pot-never-boils type of way. But as if to say screw you, the ink stayed where it was, advertising very few job offerings, and certainly none that would help him live here.

He knew his father would let him stay in the big pink (salmon, Papa had insisted) house forever if that’s what he wanted, but that wasn’t a permanent solution. Neal knew if he wanted to stay in Storybrooke and … well, he didn’t know what, he would need a job and an apartment sooner or later.

Neal supposed he should’ve realized that a stagnant, cursed town probably wouldn’t have much job turnover. The citizens had generally stayed in the roles assigned to them by the curse, which left very little available. The shops were all filled, the fishery had just the amount of people it needed and nobody else was looking right now, what with the constant upheaval magic caused in this town.

Hell, it couldn’t hurt to keep looking. It would be a distraction from the massive elephant hanging over the whole town, in the form of whatever was going on between him and Emma. He desperately wanted to talk to her, or even just see her, but he knew that that wouldn’t help anything. Neal knew she loved Killian very much, and she was bound to be hurting. His presence would only hurt her more right now.  

“Hey, Dad!” Henry said, sliding in the booth across from him and swiping a piece of bacon off his plate. It pulled him out of his thoughts, and Neal smiled at his son.

“Hey, Henry.” Neal said, setting aside the paper in favor of talking with his son. Maybe if he ignored it for a while, something else would appear.  _It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in this town_ , he thought wryly.

Henry looked over his shoulder, groaned and slid down further in the booth, so far down that Neal could only see the top of his head. He looked out the window to see Snow and David walking by, looking in the windows curiously. He nodded to them, and they hurried on, suddenly unwilling to stop. “Is there a reason you’re hiding from your grandparents, kid?”

Henry pushed himself back up, looking over his shoulder just to make sure that they hadn’t seen him. “They’re being weird. I can’t get out of the apartment without the third degree about where I’m going and who I’m meeting and what time are you going to be back because you have homework Henry.” He moved to snatch another piece of bacon off Neal’s plate, and Neal chuckled.

“Sorry to tell you this, buddy, but that’s not that unusual.”

Henry grimaced. “It’s weird for them. They normally don’t really mind where I go as long as I get my homework done.”

Now it was Neal’s turn to grimace. He knew it was a completely unfair assessment of the Charming’s given that he hardly knew them, but it didn’t really seem like they ‘really minded’ about a lot of things. He had just hoped his son would be one of the few things that did make that very exclusive list.

Either way, Henry seemed eager to change the topic. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to eat my breakfast before someone nabs it all.” Neal joked, gently nudging Henry’s hand away before it could take another piece of his bacon. Henry grinned sheepishly, and Neal continued, “No, but seriously, I’m looking for a job.”

“Can’t help you there, Dad.” Henry said, but after a second’s thought, continued, “You could try the florist. He always seems like he could use some help.”

Granny chimed in, sliding a hot chocolate in front of Henry, “I could use some kitchen help here too, if you can’t find anything else. And you could always try asking Regina, she’ll know if anything’s open.”

“Thanks Granny. I’ll be sure to let you know. And thanks for the tip, kid. How are things with Grandpa Gold going?”

Henry shrugged, sipping his hot chocolate. “They’re going okay. He has me looking through a potion book right now to see if he can make an antidote to the sleeping potion.”

“It sounds interesting, at least.” Neal said, and Henry rolled his eyes. And to be honest, Neal wasn’t even sure it would work. If there were an antidote to a sleeping potion, no doubt Rumple would have found it by now.

“I’m not really sure it will work, but Grandpa Gold probably knows better than me about magic, so…” Henry trailed off, still not looking too sure, and Neal couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t destroy what little there was of the kid’s hope though, and so kept silent.

Henry looked like he had something else on his mind, but before Neal got a chance to ask, the school bus pulled around the corner. Henry ran off, but not before taking another slice of bacon off his plate and shouting “Bye, Dad!” over his shoulder. Neal waved to him, and after paying the bill with the last of the change his father had refused to accept from breakfast yesterday, set off down the street.

Working in the kitchen for Granny, while a steady job, wasn’t incredibly appealing. He had done a lot of that after getting out of prison for the watches and hated every second of it. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and if talking to the florist didn’t result in anything, it might be the only choice he had.

As he walked up to Game of Thorns ( _how does a town straight out of the 80’s know what Game of Thrones is_ , he thought to himself), a broad man with sagging jowls walked out, heaving a pallet of deep red roses. Neal had hardly walked up the path before the man looked up, sneered, and marched back inside.

 _Well, this is a great start_ , Neal thought before opening the door, the ringing of the bell belying the suddenly-tense atmosphere in the shop. “Are you the owner?” Neal asked, ignoring the way the man glared at him.

“That depends, did your father send you?” The man asked gruffly, gripping a pair of large shears like the hilt of a sword. Neal put both his hands up placatingly, hoping the man wouldn’t take whatever problems he had with Rumplestiltskin out on him. But rather than placate him, the man got even angrier, shouting, “Well, tell Rumplestiltskin if he wants her to wake up so badly, then he knows what to do! I don’t want to see any of you around here until he’s gone, understand?”

“Yes, yes, of course, I get it.” Neal said hurriedly, hoping that he wouldn’t start swinging those shears around. Despite the man’s portliness, he looked angry enough to be a real threat, and Neal was not going to give him any encouragement to become so. After a second, his brain caught up with what the man had said, and he questioned, “Wait, wake her? Do you mean Belle? You can wake Belle?”

“Of course I can, I’m her father.” The man scoffed, placing the shears down and retreating behind the counter.. After a second, he continued, “I’ve said my piece. If he wants me to come wake her up, he knows what to do, and sending other people to plead won’t change my mind.”

Neal felt anger bubbling in his chest. This man treated his own daughter like a pawn, like a bargaining chip, and nothing felt more callous than that. “I actually didn’t know anything about all this.” Neal retorted, and the man looked up in surprise. “I was stopping here to see if you had a job available, but quite frankly, any man who would treat his own child so deplorably is not one I want to work for.”

He slammed his way out of the flower shop before the man could reply, barely keeping from knocking over the pallet of roses on his way. Rage boiled in his blood as he power-walked down the road, thinking over the whole conversation. He could never, ever dream of treating Henry the way this man treated Belle. He had fought to cross worlds and been tortured by a witch in the name of getting back to his son, and Belle had to remain stuck in a eternal torture because her father saw her as a pawn.

He wanted to march back and give the man a piece of his mind, shout and rail and yell about he was a selfish dick to consider himself so far above caring about his own daughter, but it wouldn’t be worth it. He was obviously considering himself the victim, so nothing Neal could say would change his mind, but there was something he could do.

If Belle’s father wouldn’t step up to the plate and be a father instead of an ass, then there was no one else to help her but Rumple and Henry, and she deserved more people on her side than that. Belle was nothing but good, and she had brought his father the closest to happy, the closest to  _human_ , that Neal could remember.

Mind made up, Neal jogged across the street and into his father’s shop, nearly knocking off the bell in his haste. “Papa?” He called, breathless as he rushed into the back room, paying no mind to the fact that he would probably worry his father rushing in here breathless and red. Rumple looked up from a massive, dusty book, a pressure mark on his face from where he had leaning on his hand.

“I’m going to help you wake Belle.”

* * *

 

Emma groaned softly as a knocking on the door penetrated her consciousness and roused her from sleep. Her skin was sticky and sweaty, and her head was pounding angrily. She rolled over with a groan, reaching sleepily for Killian’s shoulder. “Can you see who that is? I’m still so tired.” It had been a long day for both of them after all.

Her hand fell to the cool, empty sheets of her bed and she jerked awake, looking blearily around for Killian. The memories hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless. Killian was gone. Killian was dead, and he was never coming back.

Emma wasn’t sure if she was gasping or sobbing. Her chest felt like it was being ripped to shreds, and to be honest, she would almost prefer that to her current reality. Killian was gone, and it felt like half of her had been forcefully sawed off by a sadistic monster. He was dead, and had taken half of her with him. By the time she stopped crying, she could only hope whoever was at the door had given up and gone away.

She groaned as she thumped down the stairs, groaning at her pounding head. She hadn’t been out of bed except for the necessities since Hook hadn’t come back, and she was definitely feeling the effects. Despite that, all she wanted to do was crawl right back into bed. Hell, this town had survived without her for 28 years, and it could survive some more without her for a few days.

Emma shielded her eyes from the sunlight coming in through the windows Killian had thought she’d love. Her head was pounding, and her eyes burned from excessive crying. If anyone was at the door, they were going to be in for quite a sight.

She peeked through the peephole and was relieved to see an empty porch. She eased open the door to see a box of bagels and a tupperware container filled to bursting with what looked like lasagna, and she felt the first smile ghosting around the edges of her lips. Down the street, she could see her mother and father walking arm- in-arm, and before she knew it, she was crying again.

Emma quickly shut the door behind her, sinking to the ground with her head in her hands. That was supposed to be her and Hook like that, walking down the street and so in love that it would embarrass others to look at them. He was supposed to live, but Emma was now stuck to go on without him, exist without him while pretending there wasn’t a hole where he was supposed to fit perfectly. This house, which was supposed to be so happy, now tortured her with images of the life they were supposed to have together. Killian was in the kitchen cooking with her, in the living room relaxing, in bed when she woke with the sunrise, smiling his sly grin. She couldn’t bear it.

Without even thinking about it really, she wiped her eyes and marched up the stairs, grabbing a jacket and jerking her boots on. She couldn’t be in this house, tormented by all the memories she hadn’t gotten the chance to make. If people saw her marching through town in nothing but sweatpants, well, they could kiss her ass. She had to get out of this house before it suffocated her.

The cool ocean breeze came as a sweet relief on her overwarm face, and Emma turned her face towards the wind. Immediately, she felt her muscles loosen as the early morning light warmed her face. The slight damp soaked into her, cooling her even further, and she took a deep breath. The pressure, the need that had taken her over faded in the morning light, and she might have even smiled if the saline smell of the air didn’t remind her so much of Killian.  _Just an hour or two_ , she thought to herself,  _and then I’ll be ready to go back._

Emma turned and walked towards the woods, eager for some time completely alone to clear her head. It would just be a short walk, just enough to hopefully chase the ghosts and cobwebs out of her brain, and then she would go back, maybe get a shower for the first time since Killian hadn’t returned to her. The woods would be perfect- it wouldn’t remind her so much of him, she wouldn’t have to see or talk to anyone, and if she was being honest with herself, she wouldn’t run into  _him_.

The fog rolling in from the ocean encased the tops of the trees, shading the forest floor and shrouding everywhere in an otherworldly atmosphere. She breathed in the peaty air and for the first time since Killian hadn’t come back, she actually felt calm. She wasn’t happy, not by a long shot - in fact, she felt like she might never be happy again - but she was calm.

In the forest, there was just her. No one to miss and no expectations to fulfill. Outside the forest, there was Killian’s … death, and her parents, and Henry. And more ominously, somewhere  _he_  was waiting. For what, Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but waiting nonetheless.

She shook herself - that wasn’t important right now. After everything, she knew he wouldn’t come looking for her - at least she thought she did. She had thought Killian was her True Love too, but she was wrong about that, so why not about everything else? The sky was green, the ocean was red, bear claws were actual bear’s claws - nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility.

Emma walked on, kicking at the loose stones and sticks on the path. She wanted to cry (yea, like she hadn’t done enough of that). She wanted to kick and scream and lay around and … so many, too many reaction floated around in her head, and it hurt her head to think about them all.

She sat down against a tree trunk, feeling suddenly light-headed. The world was spinning around her, and her chest felt tight.

She knew that all the feelings she was trying to escape were still there, pulling at her, dragging her down. But in the forest, Emma could avoid them for a little bit longer.


	6. Chapter 6

_This is hopeless_. Neal thought to himself. He sighed quietly, closing another heavy book and setting it on the ever-increasing stack by his elbow. He looked down to the blank notepad and resignedly grabbed another book off the stack by his feet.  _Maybe there will be something in this one_ , he thought to himself. He and his father had been at this research all day, and so far he had found nothing that could help them wake Belle. And based on the barely-concealed curses he could hear intermittently from his father, Neal supposed his father’s efforts weren’t going any better.

Neal stretched, wincing as his neck popped, stiff from bending over books for hours. His stomach gurgled quietly, and he looked up and saw that it was nearly 6 PM. He glanced over at the still-sleeping Belle and looked back to his book, swallowing heavily.  _There goes another day_ , he thought to himself. He put a slip of paper in his book and stood, saying, “Papa, it’s dinner time, we need to eat something.”

Rumple remained bent over his potion, pen scratching over a sheet of paper at the slightest flick of his fingers. Neal glanced away, shoving his hands in his pockets. Despite everything, his father’s casual use of magic still made his stomach twist and flashes of green swirls appear behind his eyes. He swallowed heavily, and said again, “Pops, you need to come eat something. Your work will still be here when you get back.”

“I’ll be along as soon as I’m finished. I’m so close.” He answered, tossing a handful of ingredients into the vial by his wrist. The liquid in the bottle emitted smoke in innumerable hues of purple and blue, while the liquid inside painted the glass crimson. The room smelled of lemon and sage, and it filled Neal with an odd desire for home. “And...done.”

Rumple waved his hand and the bottle frosted over, instantly cooling the liquid inside. Neal followed him with his eyes as Rumple walked across the room towards Belle, soaking a cloth with the potion as he went. Neal stepped up, his steps almost too quiet to hear, and stood by the edge of bed, watching mutely. The hope in his father’s eyes was almost too much to watch, and Neal, not used to seeing that expression on Rumple’s face, watched silently as Rumple rubbed the potion across Belle’s forehead.

The crimson liquid sat on her skin for only a moment before absorbing into her skin and yet her eyes remained closed, her stomach moving up and down almost imperceptibly. Neal looked away as his father’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Neal said softly. Rumple flinched away from the comforting hand Neal put on his shoulder, tossing the empty beaker aside before sinking into his desk chair, staring ahead blankly. “Come on, let’s go eat. Then we can come back.”

Rumple sighed before leaning forward, paging through his book listlessly. “I’m not hungry.” He said shortly. “You go on without me. I’ll eat later.”

“When’s later?” Neal asked, knowing that ‘later’ was more likely to mean ‘whenever I’m done working’. Rumple looked up, the frown on his face deepening. Neal met his stare evenly, raising an eyebrow as they continued to stand off.  _God, it’s like arguing with a teenager_ , he thought to himself. His father looked away, clearing his throat as his pen began scratching over the page, much more viciously than before. “Papa, you need to eat.” Neal insisted. “Is this really what you think Belle would want? For you to starve yourself and not sleep because of her?”

Rumple leaned back in his chair, a heartbreakingly desperate look on his face as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “I don’t even know anymore, Bae. I don’t even know what she’d want for me anymore.”

He buried his face in his hands, and Neal sat down by Belle, trying to give his father some space, especially as he heard the other man begin sniffling. He looked down to Belle, running his hand gently through her hair. As he did, however, he felt something strange on the back of her head. “Hey, Dad…” He lifted her head, panicking when he saw blood on the pillow. “Dad, you’re going to want to see this.”

Rumple came over, alarmed when he saw the blood as well. “What happened? Here, Neal, help me lift her.” Neal held her up, her torso against his shoulder, as Rumple poked through Belle’s thick chestnut hair. His fingers came away with flakes of dried blood, and his hand glowed gold, caressing the back of her head and taking the wound away. “How the hell did this happen? Where is she?”

“She’s in the Realm of Monsters.”

They both turned to the door to see the Blue Fairy standing in the entry, the curtain falling into place behind her. Her wand was clenched in her hands, and Rumple stood, his back ramrod straight. Neal gently laid Belle back down, petting her hair back, before getting up and standing by his father. “Neal.” She nodded to him.

“Blue.”

Her eyes went back to Rumple, and she swallowed thickly. “I’m...happy to see you’ve made it back.”

Rumple laughed, a short, harsh sound that Neal hadn’t heard out of him since the early days of the curse. “I’m sure that’s not true. Now, how would a little gnat like you know where my wife is?”

“I was present when she was cursed. Suffice to say, there are things that you don’t know about your … wife.” Blue said, her chin raised. “And that curse is why you cannot wake her.”

“You really expect me to leave my wife suffering on your word alone?” Rumple said, his hands clenching into fists at his side. Neal could see the magic sparking out from between his fingers, as well as sparks coming from Blue’s wand. “You really want to challenge me?” Rumple asked, and Neal stepped between, fearing this would come to blows.

“Alright, no fighting. We’re just going to talk this out, right Papa?” Neal said, looking between the two of them. Rumple nodded stiffly, his hands falling limp by his sides. Blue took a deep breath and put her wand away. “Now, how do you know Belle is in this … realm of monsters, Blue?”

“I can’t say much ; it involves powers much higher than myself. But I can tell you that there are creatures there who want Belle, and will not hesitate to follow her here if that’s what it takes.”

“I’m sure I can handle whatever these creatures are.” Rumple countered, gesturing around the back room at all the various magical items. “I will not leave my wife and child to suffer in the name of protecting this town.”

Blue paled so quickly that Neal feared she might fall over. “Belle … she’s pregnant?”

“Yes, which is why I have to wake her. She can’t stay in a realm so dangerous.” Neal watched as the fairy sank into a chair, seemingly unaware of everything Rumple said.

“What do you know about this realm, Papa?” He asked, trying to give Blue time to compose herself.

“Very little. Centuries before I was the Dark One, mythical creatures vanished from the Enchanted Forest seemingly overnight. Fae creatures, monsters - anything that was conceived as too clever and too monstrous. Belle and my child are not safe there.”

“This is even worse than I thought.” Blue said. “It’s far too dangerous to wake her. These monsters will wreak havoc on this realm if they’re allowed here.”

“You really expect me to leave my wife under this spell, in who knows what kind of danger? She would be protected here, at least.”

“Yes, like you protected her so well before?” Blue shot back. “It’s better for her and for all of us that she remain there.”

“And what if they were to get hurt in this realm? Is that just collateral damage?” Rumple asked, his voice rising and face flushing red.

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take.” Blue answered, her hands wringing and her voice tight.

“What’s this ‘we’ shit?” Neal questioned. “The only one this will hurt is Papa, but I guess that’s never really mattered that much to you.”

“I’m trying to protect us all. You can’t begin to imagine the kind of chaos you’ll unleash on this realm if she wakes.”

“I don’t care. Belle is my wife, and while you seem happy to sacrifice her and my child, I am not. I will wake her, and gods help you if you stand in my way.” Rumple said before turning away, back to his potions and books.

“Then the fault lies on your shoulders.” Blue said archly before turning and marching out. Neal ran after her without a second thought.

“Blue, there must be some compromise. You know Belle doesn’t deserve this.” Neal pleaded. “If you’re that worried, then help us. I’m sure between you and Papa, you could keep these monsters back.”

Blue bit her lip, uncertain. Her expression hardened, and she said, “I’m sorry, Neal, I truly am. There is too much at risk.” She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and marched out, the bell clanging loudly. He sighed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes - would his life ever be simple?  

He had just turned to go back into the back room - hopefully now he could convince Papa to eat - when the bell rang again. He turned back, hoping Blue had reconsidered, but his smile fell when he saw a man with short brown hair and oil-stained overalls. A boy and a girl clung to him, but while the boy looked down to the floor, the girl looked around the shop curiously. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for the night. Perhaps you could come back in the morning?”

“Granny sent me over, actually.” The man said, reaching a hand forward. “You’re Neal, right?”

“Yes, and you are?” Neal asked.

“Michael Tillman, and these are my children, Ava and Nicholas. Back in the Enchanted Forest, they were Hansel and Gretel.” Michael said, his hands wringing an oil-stained cloth. “Anyway, she said you were looking for a job. I could use a bit of help at the repair shop, if you’re good with cars. Now that we’re not frozen in time anymore, cars are actually needing work.”

_Well, that was fast._  “Yeah, I actually did all the work on Em - the Sheriff’s car. When would you like me to start?” Neal asked, barely believing his luck.

“Come by by the end of next week and we can get you all set up.” Michael answered, and with a firm handshake, the small family was on their way. Neal locked the door behind them, shutting off the lights in the front of the shop as he went.

He shook his head as he walked back into the back room.  _What a day._  “Come on, Papa, it’s time to go eat now!”

* * *

Henry laid on his stomach on the floor, his backpack an uncomfortable weight against his back. He could hear Snow and Charming talking in the kitchen, punctuated by sounds of Neal babbling loudly, surely eating breakfast in his high chair while they enjoyed a (relatively) quiet breakfast. Come on, come on, he thought to himself ; he hadn’t gotten up this early for nothing. He pressed his ear to the wood, trying to listen to their muted conversation. Any second now, Snow would go to get Neal ready while Charming took a shower and changed for work.

Henry had woken up extra early (too early, in his opinion) and gotten ready for school before they even woke. All he had to do was grab his lunch out of the fridge, nab something from the cabinets for breakfast, and then he was free of their overbearing attention. Then he could go to Grandpa’s shop for a little bit, or to the Sorcerer's Mansion to work on the storybook some more.

_Come on, come on_. It was almost impossible to keep his fingers from drumming against the wood. Neal babbled almost non-stop in his high chair, a sure sign that he was done eating, and soon enough, he heard Snow say, “All done, little man? It’s time to get you ready for daycare!” Her sweet, high tone grated him as she baby-talked to Neal, who probably couldn’t understand a word she said anyway.

“Who’s watching him today?” Charming asked. Snow’s answer was drowned out by the running water, which meant he was done with his coffee.  _Almost there, almost free._

“...Normally I would ask Belle, but that’s clearly not an option. Ashley’s daycare will have to do.” Snow finished, resignation in her voice.

“I’m sure she’ll be willing to watch him again if she wakes up.” Charming said, trying to comfort her, and Henry felt a surge of rage. How selfish could they be? This wasn’t how heroes were supposed to act. They did realize Belle was a person and not just their personal nanny, right?

Finally, Snow called up the stairs, saying, “Henry, it’s time to get up for school!” Yes. That meant Charming was about to hop into the shower, and she was on her way to change Neal. This was going perfectly, down to the second.

“I’m up!” He called back, trying to make his voice as sleepy-sounding as possible. For good measure, he tapped the toes of his shoes against the hardwood, mimicking the sound of him thumping out of bed like he did every morning.

Finally, he heard Snow move deeper into the apartment, while the sound of water running meant that Charming had started his shower. Henry jumped to his feet - he wouldn’t have long. Charming took short showers, and depending on Neal’s mood, dressing him wouldn’t take that long. He crept down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots he had memorized by now. He stuffed his lunch into his backpack and grabbed a Poptart from the cabinet, ears perked for the sound of footsteps.

Nothing. He could hear Neal crying, so the changing wasn’t going too well, he guessed. Henry tiptoed his way towards the door, sliding the lock back as quietly as possible once he got there. He had just eased the door open and was about to step out when he heard, “Good, you’re already ready. Can you hold Neal for a … Wait, what are you doing?”  _Damnit_.

Snow stood in the hallway with Neal balanced on her hip, the baby sucking on his pacifier furiously, still red-cheeked from wailing. Henry sighed and answered, “I was just going to stop in and see Dad and Grandpa Gold before school starts. See if they’re any closer to waking Belle.”

Her expression hardened, and she said shortly, “You can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“I need you here to watch Neal. Just for a few minutes while I get ready for the day.” Snow answered, setting Neal in his playpen and waving a stuffed dragon in his face. Henry rolled his eyes - a few minutes would easily turn into a half-hour once Snow decided she was ready and could take the baby again. His hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms.

“Why can’t you just have Grandpa do that? Neal will be fine in his playpen for the few minutes until Grandpa gets out of the shower.” Henry pointed out, and Snow stood up, a frown crossing her face.

“This isn’t an argument. I asked you to. That’s why.” She stated, her chin jutting out. Neal stopped babbling in his pen and stared up at his mother, obviously sensing the tension in the room.

“I want to go see Dad.” Henry explained, and she sighed.

“You can go after school, if your homework is done.”

“No, I can’t,” Henry said sarcastically. “Once my homework is done, you’ll want help with Neal, and then help with dinner. And by the time dinner’s done, it will be time to get ready for bed.” Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me the truth. Are you trying to keep me away from Dad?”

“I don’t have to answer to you.” Snow snapped - an overreaction in his opinion. Her face reddened as she snapped, “With your moms preoccupied, we’re in charge. That means you listen to us, Henry.”

“Why should I? You’re not my parent. Dad, Mom, and Regina are.” Henry yelled back. “And I want to go see Dad, just before school starts. I do everything I can to help you, stuff you could probably do on your own if you thought of anyone except yourself. You can’t just let me do this one thing?”

“Henry!”

“It would have been easy for Grandpa to get ready while you fed Neal, and then switch off, instead of using me as your free babysitter in place of Belle.”

“Henry!”

“There’s no reason to keep me from Dad, except that you think that Grandpa Gold’s problem is beneath your notice.”

“Henry, I am just trying to do what’s best for you.” Snow said from between clenched teeth.

“What about what’s best for your citizens? You do realize Belle’s one of them, right, or do problems only matter when they affect you?”

“Alright, that is it! I’ve had it. You will not speak to me this way. I am your grandmother and your Queen.” Snow snapped, arms crossed and face flushed red. “Now, I don’t care if you don’t like it, but your moms left me in charge and I’ve said you can’t go. Now go to your room until it’s time to go to school.”

“But …” Henry began, before Neal began wailing from his pen. Snow picked Neal up, cooing at him as she rocked him gently, and with a glare over her shoulder at him, pointed silently up the stairs. “Fine.” Henry snapped, stomping up the stairs and slamming the door closed, hollowly satisfied when he heard Neal begin screaming again.

The rest of the day dragged on and on in a haze of resentment and anger. School felt like it lasted forever, and true to his word, once he got home, the rest of the night was lost in homework, babysitting, and dinner. By the time he had eaten, it was too late to go see Dad and Grandpa Gold, even though he practically inhaled his dinner. He went up to bed as soon as dinner was over, angry that he wasn’t able to leave and unable to bear the awkward, tense silence downstairs. He shot off a quick text to Dad while he was lying in bed.  _Sorry I couldn’t be there today. How are things going?_

The reply came through a minute later.  _No worries, buddy. It’s not going well, looking forward to seeing you tomorrow and getting your help._

Henry scowled, shooting a glare to the stairwell.  _No luck. The powers that be grounded me._

_Be nice, Henry. Anyway, I’ve got to go and try to get your grandfather to eat and sleep._  Henry texted a quick goodnight and tossed the phone aside, listening to Snow ranting about his behavior this morning. He rolled over and plugged headphones in, turning music on to drown out her words.

Eventually, he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Henry woke with a gasp, his hands subconsciously scratching at his wrists. As he woke up fully, he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and inspected the scars that littered his skin.  _It’s okay, he’s gone, it’s okay, he’s gone_ , he repeated to himself until his breathing slowed and his mind cleared. Blood beaded up from the scratches he left on his skin, and Henry reached into the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of peroxide and a stained washcloth. He hissed as the peroxide stung his skin, his mind unwillingly going back to his worsening dreams. _It’s okay, he’s gone._

After wrapping his wrist with bandages, Henry laid back down, content that the scratches were clean. Henry closed his eyes, running through the breathing exercise he had found on the Internet.  _It is over, he’s gone. Hook is dead and buried. He can’t hurt me anymore._

Still, the images floated through his mind, picking at the fresh wounds in his subconscious. A flash of a silver hook, his storybook lying open in front of him, the  _fear_ , the cowering, the shouting and the bite of a sharp point in his skin...

His arms and fingers twitched like there were ants under his skin, and he stood up and paced in order to keep himself from scratching again. Thankfully, his socks muffled his steps on the floorboard, or he would have woken Snow and Charming for sure, not to mention Neal.

He had to get out of here - the shadows on the wall felt like they were caging him in, and the red glow from his alarm clock only seemed to make it seem more oppressive. He paced faster, restless and agitated, despite the fact that it was only 1:30 in the morning.

Henry bit his thumbnail, plans running through his mind. David had fallen asleep on the couch, Snow warning him that she thought Henry would try to sneak out again tomorrow morning, so that ruled out using the front door. There was the fire escape, but that presented a similar problem, and besides, it was too loud. Even if he managed to sneak downstairs without waking anyone, they would definitely hear him on the fire escape.

He sighed and sat on the windowsill, his foot bouncing up and down. The town hall clock rang out 1:45 AM. His breath fogged up the glass, and he let his head drop to the window, the cool glass making him. It was hopeless. He couldn’t leave. He was trapped in this oppressive room, alone with his nightmares.

He looked out, hoping he would just fall back asleep.  _Wait._  That was it! On the building across the alley, there was a metal ladder that went almost all the way down to the ground, with a closed dumpster directly below it. As long as he was able to make the jump from his windowsill to the ladder, it would be nothing to get out of here.

As quietly as possible, he pulled on a pair of shoes and grabbed his backpack. Listening carefully for any sound from the apartment below, Henry eased open the window and removed the screen, hiding it under his bed. He climbed out onto the windowsill, carefully shutting the window behind him, leaving it open only a crack to give him a way back in. With a deep breath, he jumped over to the ladder, climbing down until he felt the dumpster beneath the toe of his shoe.

Once he was on solid ground, he looked up to the windows, waiting in terror for any light. After a few minutes passed and no lights came on, he ran off, not even sure where he was going to go. He walked aimlessly, only avoiding Granny’s and the Rabbit Hole, not knowing who would still be out. As he placed one foot in front of other, he let his mind drift to other topics.

Hook. The book Grandpa Gold was hiding from him. Hook. Belle. Hook. Snow and Charming. Hook. Neal. Emma. Regina. Hook. The names went round and round in his head, threatening to drive him insane. It was too much, it was just all too much. Under all the stress and anxiety, he was just a 14 year old kid with too much on his plate, deathly afraid of screwing up. There was so much at stake - Belle waking up, Regina and Robin getting their daughter back, Emma healing, the free will of the people of Storybrooke. It was just so much, and he felt like he was floating all alone, drifting further away from his family and his own light with every passing moment.

He didn’t even know who to blame for all this. Emma? After all, she had been too busy sucking face with Hook to even notice what the pirate was doing behind her back, pushing her own son further into the darkness.

Snow and Charming? They were too busy with themselves and their baby to pay attention to anyone’s needs, even his own. And as blinded as they were by the idea that no one in their family could be dark, they probably didn’t even notice Hook trying to lure him to the darkness, to make him more like Isaac.

Regina? She was preoccupied with her new family, and he pushed away the bitterness he felt. Her sister was wreaking havoc, and of course she had to deal with that.

“Damn it!” Henry snapped to no one but himself, sinking down against the alley wall and rubbing his tear-stained face angrily. He wouldn’t feel this way if anyone had just noticed what he was going through. They were all too wrapped up in their own lives, their own suffering to even pay attention to him anymore. All he wanted was for one of them to hug him and tell him everything would be okay again, that he wasn’t a monster for wanting to give in to the dark urges that plagued his every step.

The only family he couldn’t blame was Neal and Rumple. Henry started walking again, kicking at a rock on the road and watching it skitter down the pavement.  _At least they actually care about me,_  he thought, angrily rubbing at his face. They were talking to him, listening to him, treating him with just as much seriousness as they were treating Belle. That’s what real family did, what real dads -

Wait. There was one person he could blame. Henry turned, walking with renewed purpose towards the cemetery. In all of this, there was one common figure. Hook. All this, all his stress and fear could be solidly placed on the pirate’s shoulders.

He walked and walked until he finally stood by the pirate’s grave, unable to feel anything by anger when he looked on the headstone, simply reading ‘Killian Jones’. Henry wanted to kick it over, yell, scream, cry, but he had too much respect for the graveyard to do that. “You really screwed me up, you know that?”

His breath was shaky as he inhaled. “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t pushed me over the cliff, I wouldn’t feel like I’m dangling from the edge right now. I know Emma misses you, but I’m glad you’re gone. I’m glad you’re stuck down there in the Underworld, and I hope you think about what you did to me everyday.”

Henry lightly scratched at his arm as he sat down in front of the grave. “All those times, pushing me to take control of people, take control of my family when you were at risk of losing Emma, and you never thought of how much you hurt me. You selfish prick.” The curse word felt good coming out, giving him an outlet for his rage, even while he looked around in case someone heard him utter such a foul word. “I hate you so much, and now I hate me more for hoping that wherever you are now, you’re suffering and miserable and alone.”

In the distance, he could hear the clock tower chime 2:30 AM, and weariness was dragging at him. Tears streaked down his face as he turned back to the grave. “I hope you can hear me. I’m glad Dad is Emma’s true love instead of you. I’m glad that you’re gone, so I don’t have to suffer anymore in the name of your attempts to cover up your mistakes. And I’m never going to be what you tried to make me. These powers were given to me to do good, and that’s what I’m going to use them for.”

He stifled a huge yawn and stood up, placing one hand on the gravestone. “Screw you, Killian Jones,” he whispered. At that, Henry turned and started the long walk back, ready now to sleep for the next two years. A figure emerged from the shadows, a wide grin on her face as her daughter fussed in her arms.

“Turns out my sister isn’t as good a mother as she pretends to be.” Zelena cooed to her daughter, rocking the baby gently. She laughed as she watched Henry cross the border of the cemetery before throwing up her hand and vanishing in a swirl of green smoke.

* * *

 

The sun had set and risen three times in this realm before Belle got the all clear to be out of bed, after another quick check-up by Vasilisa. It was shaky, but it was progress. She hesitated to think she had spent three days here - believing that would mean she was still in the Underworld, or worse, that she was back in Storybrooke and her father was unable to wake her.  _If Rumple even asked him, that is_ , she thought to herself.

No, she had to believe it only seemed longer.

Vasilisa, thankfully, was nothing but a kind and gracious hostess, looking over her with a warm and motherly affection. The cuts and bruises, both on her head and on her feet, had healed and finally Belle felt ready to face … whatever world she had landed in.

On the sun’s fourth rise, Belle woke to Vasilisa spooning porridge into two chipped wooden bowls. “Good, you’re awake.” She said as Belle sat down at the small table, wrapping a shawl around herself. “It gets a bit cold here, so a bit of hot food and hot tea should warm you up quite nicely. I have to go out to the market today, so eat up and we can go into town.”

“I can’t thank you enough for taking me in.” Belle said, spooning some sugar into her porridge when Vasilisa offered her the bowl. “Are you sure I can’t do anything more to help out?”

Vasilisa poured cream into her porridge, scowling when only a few drops came out. “I hope you didn’t want cream. Anyway, your company today is more than enough. Don’t worry yourself.”

Her face suddenly turned stone serious. “You have to change first. I have a dress that should fit you. It might be a bit long, though.”

“I’m fine in what I’m in, truly.” Belle insisted. Her pants and blouse had dried nicely out on the line, and the spare boots Vasilisa had put by her bed would match well. “I can’t ask you to do anything more, and you’ve already done so much.”

“You’re not asking, I’m insisting. Believe me, it’s better to blend in here.” Vasilisa said, pouring two cups of steaming black tea. Seeing Belle’s confused face, she said, “I’ll explain on the walk to the market. Eat, you’ll need your strength.”

Belle ate her porridge in silence, unnerved by the serious atmosphere that had fallen over the cabin. Her head still ached slightly, but the pain was mostly gone, and she was hesitantly eager to see the realm she had landed.  _And,_  she thought wryly as she sipped her tea,  _hopefully more than swamp land_.

Once she had finished eating, Belle stood up and cleared the dishes. “You don’t have to do that!” Vasilisa insisted, placing a hand on her arm. “What kind of hostess would I be if I made you clean?”

Belle waved her off and stacked the dishes in the basin, saying, “Let me do this after everything you’ve done for me. I was a maid once after all, I can at least clean up after myself.” Vasilisa still looked skeptical, but heaved a sigh and turned to the trunk at the foot of the bed, rifling through it and eyeing Belle critically.

“I think these should fit you.” She said after a few minutes, laying a dark brown dress and a set of stays on the bed. “There are boots under the bed, so change while I get my list together, and then we’ll get going!” Belle left the dishes and stripped down to the chemise she had been given, giving the stays a contemptuous glare. Her hand glanced over her stomach and she sighed.  _If this were the Enchanted Forest, you would be forced to wear them until your stomach wouldn’t fit_ , she reminded herself.

Vasilisa sat at the table, writing furiously, while Belle laced up the stays loosely before pulling on the overdress, the fabric soft against her skin. True to Vasilisa’s warning, the hem was a little long, but not so much that Belle would go tripping over it. The boots were a little loose as well, but some tight lacing would fix that nicely.

Finally, she was ready and Vasilisa handed her a basket distractedly, her eyes focused on the list in her hand. “You’re going to want to grab a cloak too. The mist out there gets to you faster than you can believe. There’s an extra one on the hook. Go head out ; I’ll join you in a second.”

Belle grabbed the cloak off the hook and stepped out the door, stretching languidly in the early morning mist. She swung the cloak around the shoulders and was fastening it around her neck when her stomach gave an almighty heave. She rushed down the steps, immediately throwing up her breakfast into the long grass.  _Not now, baby_ , she thought to herself, rubbing her stomach as it gave one more heave, and she coughed harshly, spitting out bile.

Belle straightened up, sipping water from the spit in the yard and rinsing out her mouth, She had just fastened the cloak around her shoulders when Vasilisa stepped out onto the stoop, carrying another basket. “Are you ready?” She said, gesturing to the path leading out of the foggy swamp.

Belle ran to catch up with her. Falling into step beside her, Belle said, “Sorry about that. Morning sickness.” As they walked further down the path, the fog slowly receded, and Belle looked out to the forest, ignoring the figures she could see moving around deep in the mist..

She gasped as Vasilisa clapped a hand over her mouth, pulling her off the path and into the forest, the twisted trees and thick mist quickly concealing them completely. Belle tried to scream, hoping that someone could hear them, but quieted when Vasilisa pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m going to let you go now, but you can’t say anything, and  _don’t scream_.” Belle nodded, and Vasilisa slowly lowered her hand, visibly relieved when Belle said nothing. “We need to speak privately, and I know a roundabout way to the market. All I need is your trust.”

“It would be easier if I knew why you dragged me out here.” Belle whispered.

“I promise I’ll explain. Can you trust me?” Vasilisa asked.

Belle nodded slowly, and the other woman breathed a sigh of relief. They picked their way through the damp moss and twisted brambles, Vasilisa looking around warily. Finally, she pulled aside a thicket of brambles to reveal another overgrown path through the gray forest. After looking around once more, she ushered Belle through, letting the brambles fall behind them. Vasilisa attempted to pull her down the path, but Belle stopped, saying, “I came with you ; now, what’s going on? Why did you pull me this way?”

“There are very important things you need to know about this realm. I wasn’t completely honest with you when we first met. I wasn’t lost in the swamps, I was looking for you. There are dangerous creatures here, and it’s unwise to wander those swamps alone.” She answered, smiling as Belle started following her down the path. Belle’s hand curled over her stomach, suddenly too aware of how much danger she was in. In a realm she had no knowledge of, with creatures wandering about in the mist, with no way of knowing when she’d be able to leave. At this point, she wondered what was less trustworthy - Rumple or this realm she found herself in.

“How did you even know I was here?” Belle asked suspiciously.

“I was hunting, and I could smell you through the swamps. Your fear, your uncertainty ; it was strong. After that, it was just a matter of following the trail to you. It was quite easy, honestly - fear is a delicious scent.” Vasilisa stated, and Belle stopped, eyes darting about. In light of that, the other woman pulling her off the well-traveled path and into the dank forest seemed a lot more sinister. And given that there was nothing but twisted thin trees, slippery rocks, and unknown creatures around her, there was no chance she could get away. Vasilisa, seeing her panic, rushed to console her. “It will become clearer as the story comes out.”

Belle walked on slowly, asking, “Where have I ended up?”

“Walk with me - this is a long story.” They walked down the path, the dim sunshine speckling the path ahead of them. “I was half-truthful when I said this was Baba Yaga’s realm. The control of this realm has been the focus of a shadow war for centuries between two sorcerers - Baba Yaga and Koschei.” Vasilisa looked around her quickly before saying in a low tone. “Honestly, neither of them are great rulers ; they prefer fighting each other to actually ruling us. We’re left pretty much to ourselves unless they have need of our … services.”

Belle walked silently, absorbing all she had heard. When she got no response, Vasilisa continued, “Nobody here knows how the feud between them started, but at some point, they were both exiled from the Enchanted Forest and sent to settle their differences here.”

“By who?”

“The Blue Fairy. And she did worse. Baba Yaga and Koschei - they were … collectors, of a sort. They collected monsters. And when they were banished, so were we.”

“That’s awful!” Belle exclaimed. “...Wait, we? As in…”

“Yes, me too. I’m a huli jing, a fox spirit.” Vasilisa said, and Belle backed up a step.

“Don’t fox spirits eat human livers?” She asked, and Vasilisa laughed, a giggle that sounded much more sinister than it had before.

“Those are kumihos, and that I am not.” She answered, giggling. “Not to fear. But keep that suspicion - there are both good and bad creatures here.”

Vasilisa whipped off her cloak, immediately transforming into a massive fox with large glowing eyes and a thick white coat marked with swirls of orange and red. Her massive tail swung behind her, lashing about and knocked shriveled pale leaves off the trees around them. She leaned down, her snout inches from Belle’s face. Belle felt a moment of fear as the spirit’s mouth opened, sour breath washing over her as rows of sharp teeth came into view.

All the sudden, her long tongue shot back, swiping across Belle’s face and leaving a streak of thick saliva. Belle jumped back, and Vasilisa let out a huffing sound much like laughter as Belle wiped her face. The fox grabbed the cloak from Belle’s arms and swung it over until it settled on her thick shoulders. In an instant, the monstrous fox was gone and Vasilisa stood, still giggling.

Suddenly, there was a massive boom from over the ridge, followed by a plume of thick, olive green smoke. Vasilisa’s face dropped in a second, and she held a finger to her lips before whipping off her cloak again. The fox laid down on the ground, gesturing for Belle to get on her back.

Belle climbed on, her fingers clinging to the thick coarse white fur as Vasilisa took off at a run, climbing the rock and brambles and only stopping when they had just reached the crest of the hill. Vasilisa shifted back into her human form, laying on her stomach and gesturing for Belle to follow her as she crawled up to the very top, gesturing down to the ashy field below. Belle had only gotten a glimpse before her hood fell over her face, followed by Vasilisa whispering, “It’s Baba Yaga and Koschei. Keep your hood down ; it’s better we’re not seen.”

Despite the warning, Belle tugged the hood up, just enough that she could see down into the clearing below. On one side, a rounded mass of graying, holey fabric and wispy black fabric moved in, a gnarled, bony hand emerging from it with a knobby wooden stick. The stick clicked ominously against the ground as the figure moved, the sound echoing through the misty forest. The tattered hood fell as a breeze swept through the clearing, revealing a short old woman with hair like spiderwebs.

On the other side, a tall spindly man walked out, so skinny that Belle thought if he turned sideways, he may have disappeared completely. A thick black cloak practically hung off him, the fabric so oily that it seemed like he had taken a bath in tar. He held out a hand, and skin like crepe paper hung from his bones. Even from here, she could make out the pronounced knuckles and wrist on his outstretched hand. “How dare you attack me, you old crone?” He demanded in a wispy voice that Belle struggled to hear.

“Ha!” The old woman - Baba Yaga, she assumed - cackled, her voice hoarse and echoing. “If I’m old, what does that make you?”

“Well able to take you on.” He answered, and Baba Yaga scoffed. Koschei continued, “Did you really think you could get to the demigod before me?”

Baba Yaga let out another chortling laugh, “Do not tell me that story about your horse again. As I recall, I gave you that horse, and for what? For you to be bested by a princeling.”

“Better than being bested by a  _girl_.” Koschei spat back, a too-wide grin splitting his face as the witch stood straighter.

“That spell was a warning, Koschei. The demigod is mine and I will not stand for your interference.”

“Forgive me as I tremble in fear.” He shot back. “Rest assured, when the demigod is in my care, I will take back control of this realm from you.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Even more incentive then.”

The witch cackled again. “Strong words from a weak man. Do you even know where she is?”

“I will find her eventually. Everyone is watching. I have eyes everywhere.” Koschei said, and Belle nearly screamed as she felt a tug on her cloak. Vasilisa crouched further below, back in her fox form, pulling Belle onto her back before taking off in a run through the forest. They ran together for what felt like hours, and Belle’s hands got sore from clinging to the orange and white fur.

At last, Vasilisa stopped outside a decaying temple, the stones dripping with water and thick, fetid moss. A cloying smell hung in the air, and Belle had just pushed the door open when Vasilisa, now human, rushed ahead of her and pulled her inside the temple. “Stay right here. The light will come in a moment.”

Candles shot to life all around them, revealing large cats painted all over the ceiling, the walls, even the floor, their wide mouths painted with thick splatters of red. Their eyes seemed to stare down at her, and she jumped as Vasilisa placed a hand on her back. “No need to fear, these cats will not hurt you. They’re the protectors of this temple, and that protection will extend to you for as long as you’re here.”

Vasilisa moved through the temple’s sanctum, pulling out supplies from pockets in the wall. Belle could even swear she saw one of the cat’s tails flick and open another door, but dismissed it as just a trick of the light. “Even Baba Yaga and Koschei fear this place.” Vasilisa said.

“Wait, I don’t understand. What are we doing here? Who’s the demigod they’re looking for?” Belle’s mind catch up with all that happened - just hours ago she was eating porridge and looking forward to exploring the rest of this realm, and now she was who-knew how far away, in a temple that looked as if it would crumble at the next stiff breeze.

Vasilisa looked up as she shook out a blanket, her eyes filled with sorrow. “They’re looking for you, Belle.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Thoughts of His Lost Swan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848660) by [OUAT_1_Fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OUAT_1_Fan/pseuds/OUAT_1_Fan)




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